To Be Held: Vol 1
by Phanatic4Phantom
Summary: COMPLETE: Christine has second thoughts and returns to her Angel of Music. Begins at the end of the 2004 movie. My first fic and at writing. Please be kind. Movie based. Leroux and Kay nods. No Raoul bashing. EC and RM :IN EDITING: Up to Chapter 2!
1. Decisions

November 15, 2007 - To All Readers  
Due to my current series, I have had no time to edit past chapter two. Hopefully you can still enjoy the read above and beyond any amateur errors. I apologize for the delay, but I do hope to continue with replacing the chapters in the future. Thank you!

**Author's Note  
**Greetings fellow Phantom fans,

I'd just like to take a moment to praise all the veteran writers here that have inspired me with their beautiful Phantom stories. Thank you for sharing your tales with us.

This had been my first attempt at a fan fiction and at writing in general. I've learned much over the course of this story and my sequel, though there's always room for improvement. I am not a pro novelist, but hopefully with enough practice, I can be in the future.

I loved the character portrayals from the 2004 movie and it inspired me to write this continuation to share with you all. I'll be incorporating a few characters that were not in the movie, but may or may not have been in the Leroux and Kay books. Please bear in mind that some of these secondary characters will, for storyline purposes, be more or less out of character. I'm a die-hard E/C supporter, because I believe Erik would have truly only loved but once; an "all or nothing" kind of thing. In any case, it fits for my story, so hopefully everyone will be able to enjoy it. Regardless of the pairings, Raoul lovers should like this one. I hope so, anyway.

**Rating Reminder  
**There will be intimacy and some violence, hence the M Rating for later chapters.

**Story Background**  
This is a continuation of the 2004 movie with Leroux and Kay character/storyline nods throughout. It will be Vol. 1 of an ongoing series. As the story progresses, you'll notice I've adapted a bit of the character personae in a way I felt was natural progression. I'm sure we all have our own ideas of what Phantom, Christine, and the rest of the characters would be like for our own storylines, but I do try to keep everyone in relative character. Read and review if you would like. I reply to all submission, and constructive criticisms are welcome, but please refrain from flames. Thank You!

**Special Thanks  
**To Kelli, for helping me out the first time around. And to Jon, for helping with the revamps now. -hugs-

Sincerely,

_-Gwen a.k.a. Phanatic4Phantom_

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, though I do have some original characters in this story. My heartfelt thanks to: Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, and Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber for giving the world the Phantom. Big thanks to Joel Schumacher for putting Phantom on the big screen. And to Gerard Butler, my life is forever changed because of your amazing portrayal of Erik.

**TO BE HELD: VOL. 1**

_We begin at the end of the 2004 movie…_

**Chapter 1 – Decisions**

"It's over now the music of the night!"

Christine could hear the unbearable anguish in the Phantom's voice, followed by the sounds of glass shattering upon the stone floor. With each strike of the mirror she winced, hot tears falling past her cheeks. She gripped Raoul tightly, feeling as if her very soul were sinking into the dark waters that passed beneath them.

He looked to her as he maneuvered the boat across the lake, desperately trying to find the route to their salvation. "Christine, you're safe now. I promise you. There's no need to cry any longer. I _will _get us out of here," he assured her, mistaking her tears as if she were frightened. Moments later, he gave a shout of relieved triumph as he finally saw the crude dock, jutting out in the dim light ahead of them.

Her heart began to race as the sounds of the mob increased in the distance, and as the boat drew closer to its port, her body tensed in fear. A victim of a kidnapping, taken by the Opera Ghost, she now worried for the life of her captor. Anxiety coursed through her veins as she thought of everything that had come to pass, every detail leading to this point. Despite her rational mind, she found she did not wish to leave her fallen Angel. She loved Raoul, of this she was certain, but it was more a love one would have for a dear friend…_or brother_ _perhaps_, than a lover. The kiss she had given the Phantom in hopes to free her fiancé, had taken her by complete surprise. That lingering moment awakened feelings she knew nothing of, but were regardless laying dormant deep within her. These were thoughts she dared not believe she could possess for the infamous 'Phantom of the Opera,' but she _had_ felt something. A similar stir overtook her during their duet of his _Don Juan Triumphant_, but fear had taken steady hold of her, replacing those feelings as they plunged through the trapdoor beneath the stage. Yet in that kiss to save Raoul, and perchance redeem the kind and gentle soul she knew the Phantom to possess, everything had surfaced and come to a head. She had looked into his adoring eyes and kissed him a second time, as if testing the depth of her untried emotions._ Could I possibly love him, even after everything he's done?_ With that boundless kiss, she knew the answer itself did not matter. She could no longer ignore or deny it. She had passed the point of no return, finally knowing where her heart truly lay.

Unfortunately, things had gone from bad to worse in a blink of an eye. As strange as fate would have it, fear _had_ turned to love. The Phantom had told her such a thing could be possible several months earlier, though at the time, she thought it to be just the rantings of a desperate madman. The irony of it all was that she was finally ready to love him now, but this time it was he that was turning away. Just as she was about to tell her Angel she had indeed made her choice, he had managed to skillfully steal the very words from her, with one despairing look.

The unmasked shell of a man, ever defeated by his own self-loathing, had pushed her aside and told her to go. "Forget me…forget all of this... Leave me alone…forget all you've seen..." his voice begged her, breaking as he gasped for air between heaving sobs. He staggered across the lake--desperate to remove himself from the presence of the young couple, yet his tears blinded his steps as he stumbled away.

She was now at Raoul's side as he struggled to free himself from the bindings, and in her confusion, she could do nothing more than aid him with the restraints. Everything was happening much too fast. She couldn't recall anything else that was being said, too awestruck at the sudden shunning by her Angel of Music. _Her father promised her…her father promised her…_ the words of the old folk tale echoed within her mind, just as they did in the snowy cemetery where her suitors had clashed. The story of Little Lotte and the Angel of Music was one she thought of fondly. It was her father's favorite legend to tell her as a child, and he had often promised such an Angel would visit her some day._ When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you..._

Raoul placed a steady hand onto her shoulder, its warmth and weight startling her out of her most recent memories and of those long ago. "Dearest Lotte, we must go now. Come." He secured the small boat fast, tying the guide rope in a knot against the pier and turning to help her.

She glanced back upon the misty lake, the stirrings of her heart pulling her across the rippling waters, back to that precious moment which she'd unintentionally fled from in her daze.

"Christine?"

She turned to face him, his deep blue eyes piercing her own, tear-filled gaze.

_I could lose myself forever in her beauty, _he silently admitted.

"Raoul...you know I love you, don't you?" she said in almost a hushed whisper.

Smiling broadly he brought his hands to the sides of her face, caressing her cheeks lovingly with his thumbs. "Why of course I do, Lotte, but there will be plenty of time for us to profess our love for one another, after the threat has subsided. Now come along. We must hurry!" he said, sliding his hands down her arms to grab hold of her hands within his.

Shaking her head in refusal, she pleaded with him solemnly. "Raoul, he _needs_ me."

Lifting himself from the boat, still clinging onto her delicate hands, he tried to pull her up and out to join him. His grasp slipped as she pulled away with determined strength and resolve. He stared at her incredulously. "Christine, that thing, that _monster_, has let us go. He has no need for you now, and he certainly does not deserve your loyalty. The mob draws near and his fate will soon be judged in the eyes of God!" he declared, confident in the justice that would be forthcoming.

"How can you _say_ that, Raoul? The world has shown him nothing but fear, hatred, and darkness!" her voice rose defensively, on the verge of contempt. "He is stronger than you can imagine, but don't you see? I was his strength!" she cried out at him. "He will die without me, and more importantly, because of me!"

The viscount smirked, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Lotte. His fate means absolutely nothing to me, despite whatever ties you feel to that soulless bastard."

She stared at him in blank amazement. Gone was the gallant boy and compassionate man that she had thought she knew. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and the fierce passion in them seemed to startle him.

"I…I only speak the truth, Lotte." He quickly recovered his composure. "That creature will get what is coming to him, the mob will see to that, and we must not be here!" he pulled at her insistently. "Come now, before it's too late!"

She stared at him closely--her senses suddenly open to the reality around her. She honestly had not noticed the fresh tears that now wet her porcelain face, cleansing her of all doubts. "I love him, Raoul. I'm staying." She would not budge from the boat.

"CHRISTINE!" he yelled in outrage. He would not stand to hear such preposterous declarations. He had secured her freedom and he'd be damned in allowing her to be bound to the Phantom's maniacal chains.

His biting tone did not startle her in the least. Instead, she stood tall and spoke clearly. "Raoul, listen to me! I am no longer the child you once knew. Little Lotte is no more. _I_ am Christine Daae, a woman in love with an Angel…no," she corrected herself readily, shaking her head in bemused disbelief, "merely a man…an incredible man."

Her words made no sense to him. "I don't know what he's done to you. It could be a spell of some sort or simply this abominable underworld, but don't worry. Once I get you above ground, everything will fine...you'll see."

He was quick to dismiss her, but she had expected as much. It was a habit of his that she became noticeably aware of as they reacquainted themselves during their courtship. _He has no choice but to listen to me now, so help me..._ "There's no doubt I love you, Raoul. You will always be my childhood sweetheart, the boy who fetched my scarf from the sea, and I will always remember that fondly for the rest of my days." Her eyes softened briefly before returning to its serious gaze upon him. "But you were not the one to comfort me when I mourned my father's passing, or when I cried night after night because I was alone in the world without him. You were not there to brighten my spirits when I had thought my despair would surely kill me. You were not the one to make my song, my soul, take flight! No matter the deception, it was him, their so-called Phantom, who had brought me to the light!"

He stood stock still, his mouth agape as his tumultuous emotions tried to sort themselves inside of him.

She glared up at him, sorely disappointed. "You didn't even notice me when I was just a chorus girl. You would have never noticed, had I not been cast into the spotlight the night of Chalumeau's_Hannibal_." The look she gave him was devastating, as she came to terms with her own sudden realization and acceptance of her final claim.

He had heard enough. He would not admit to the accuracy of her words. "That's _not_ true!" He paused a moment before attempting to divert his guilt with his next statement. "He's a _MURDERER,_ Christine! Have you so soon forgotten?"

"No, I haven't forgotten, good sir!" she answered sharply. "His sins I cannot excuse, but I refuse to blind myself to the truth of what I feel inside. I love him!" she placed a hand against her heart, displaying her admiration for the man she cared for.

"Christine…I don't understand," he sighed in child-like frustration, exasperated at her stubbornness. He held his head low as if looking for the answers upon the swirling waters of the lake.

"I don't expect you to, but I would hope that you'd love me enough to let me go." She reached up and placed a hand against his left cheek tenderly.

His mind reeled. How could he refuse her? She was so lovely, so innocent, so obviously in love. _Though not with me, _he confessed hopelessly. The pangs of his heart tore at him, as he uttered his words. "Is this _truly_ what you want, Christine?" His eyes searched hers for the truth.

Her voice full of conviction, she met his look firmly. "Yes it is, mon ami…more than anything in the world. For maybe the first time in my life, I am sure of my choice."

He could scarcely accept the words that came forth next. "Go to him then. Whatever you believe, I have only ever wanted your happiness, Christine, even if I regret immensely that it is not to be with me." He choked back his tears before continuing. "Regardless of what you said before, you will always be 'Lotte' to me. Should you ever be in need of anything, you know how to find me." He could no longer hold his gaze, wanting nothing more than to take her into his arms and beg her to stay with him. Instead, he took her by the arm gently and turned her away. "Go now, and take great care! That mob will stop at nothing to attain their satisfaction. You have little time, I fear, so hurry." His voice began to break as he spoke his last. "I...will always love you…Christine."

"Thank you, Raoul! I'll not forget you for this!" She quickly grabbed the guiding pole and began her trek back across the lake in the small boat.

His legs gave beneath him as he cradled his face in his hands and wept openly. _Such a dashing nobleman I've become... Only love could reduce a man to this state, and only love could hurt this much... _He brought his head up but once, in time to see her disappear from view. She was now on her way back to her Angel…back to the Phantom of the Opera.


	2. Details and Dilemmas

**Chapter 2 – Details and Dilemmas**

The angry cries of the mob thundered and echoed along the vast cavernous walls, burrowing incessantly into Christine's mind. She could see the lair ahead of her, but it was not as close as she had hoped it would be. Her efforts at using the long pole to guide the craft along the water were ineffectual at best. "Ridiculous!" she cursed the boat and the interminable crawl at which it progressed. She threw it aside in frustration, and then took a moment to steady herself. Hiking her skirt, she held her breath and plunged into the lake without a second thought. To her surprise, the water was not nearly as deep as she had perceived it to be; her feet brushing against the silty bottom only proved as much. It _was_ however, chilly. She gritted her teeth as she waded through the water, determination driving her toward finding her Angel.

She soon found herself at the landing that marked his home. She glanced across the lake from whence she came, beyond the portcullis, and spotted the amber-white lights of several torches being cast against the stony walls. _There's little time_. She turned toward the Phantom's lair and suddenly found herself face to face with Meg Giry.

The ballerina stared blankly at her for a moment, her features framed by the light of many candles. She could not comprehend that her friend had just pulled herself out of the dark waters before her. "Christine!" she grabbed her tightly in a surprised hug, despite instantly becoming soaked to the skin also. "We were so worried! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where is le Vicomte? Where is—" Her flurry of questions ceased immediately as she thought about the Phantom. Her gaze drifted down to what she had forgotten lay within her grasp. An object of both myth and legend to the Opera Populaire and its _corps de ballet, _she stared in fascination at a white half mask. "I found this beside a curious music box…nothing more." she said quietly, as she held it up.

"I have to find him, Meg!" she pleaded, holding onto the girl's shoulders. "There's no time for me to explain why…just know that I _need_ to find him right away!"

Meg was flustered. "Perhaps…" she paused, wondering what the consequences would be should she share her suspicions.

Her hesitation only made Christine more anxious. She squeezed Meg's arms, her eyes welling with tears from the sight of the Phantom's mask and all it represented. "Please…if you know anything…"

Meg raised her arm, pointing toward the remnants of a mirror in the far corner. "…through there?" she was finally able to finish.

The mirror was unlike the others. It stood apart from the rest, a darkness looming beyond its battered frame--where it potentially led seemed to be a mystery all its own.

"Of course, that has to be it!" She rushed toward it, thinking back on the sounds of shattering glass she had heard while Raoul brought them across the lake.

Meg chased after her. "I don't understand what's going on, but if you're going in there after _him_, do be careful! You're like a sister to me, Christine. If anything were to happen to you, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for letting you go through with this."

They stood before the entrance, or exit; however one wished to perceive it.

"I'll be alright, Meg. You trust me, don't you?" she bent forward to retrieve one of the heavy drapes that lay upon the floor beside them.

"I'm more concerned of what_ he _will do if you find him," she said nervously.

"Let me worry about that. For now, just do me this one favor. Once I'm inside, cover this mirror as best you can." She handed Meg the drape, and then placed a hand against her upper arm. "I'm counting on you now."

"I promise to do this, mon ami."

"And I promise to contact you when this is all over."

Taking a long, deep breath to steady her nerves, she stared into the darkness before her. A momentary fear gripped her as she realized for the last time the life she was throwing away with these chaotic and rash actions. Her thoughts then drifted back as she remembered the kiss she had given her Angel and the promise she had made in that simple act.

It was enough. It was all.

She dismissed her reluctance and stepped swiftly into the passageway.

Meg immediately covered the mirror, tucking the drape around the edges to look as much as possible as if it were never disturbed. With her foot, she brushed away the shards of glass she was standing on, merging them to either side with the smaller fragments in front of the other broken mirrors. As she finished, she heard the sloshing of the mob making their way through the shallow waters and onto the banks of the lair. They cried out in one voice now.

"MURDERER! MONSTER! DEMON! He must be stopped!"

Their chanting was unnerving to poor little Meg's ears. Despite her love for Christine, she was unsure if she had the strength to stand up to hundreds of angry people. Trying to find her courage, she wiped at her face and turned to face the approaching men. "He's not here! I've looked myself!" she tried to yell over the unruly crowd as they came into view.

Torches were held high, reflecting on the many outraged faces that came for revenge and justice. "We've come to hang him with his own noose! We want this creature's head! He _will _pay!"

Several men moved past Meg, forcefully pushing her aside. She fell hard against the organ, her vision quickly blurring as her head connected solidly against it.

They began knocking over everything in their path and smashing whatever they could with their booted heels. Others joined in on the destruction, holding their torches to the scattered finery and determined to destroy all of the Phantom's possessions.

Meg felt a hand cradle her head gingerly. "Are you alright?" A soothing voice asked with concern.

She could barely make out his face. "Vicomte?" she rubbed at her eyes in disbelief.

"Oui, it is I. Are you—" Before he could finish his train of thought, he began to feel something seeping between the fingers of his hand he held beneath her head. "Mon dieu, you're bleeding!" he exclaimed in alarm.

Trying not to fuss, she propped herself up, slightly disoriented as the world seemed to swim in circles around her. "It's…it's not too bad, monsieur," she attempted to bring herself up, only to collapse weakly to the ground.

Raoul moved to cushion her fall, carefully bringing her to the floor again.

"S'il vous plaît, we _must_ do something. They will not stop hunting for the Opera ghost and if they find him with Christine, there's no telling what they are capable of doing to her as well. I can't bear the thought of any harm coming to her!" Fearful tears began to escape her bright blue eyes.

He cursed silently. "I feared this would happen. That's why I came back…though hesitantly." Looking in the immediate area around them, his eyes fastened upon something lying on the floor undisturbed. "Do not cry, mademoiselle. I have an idea. Just pray it works."

Standing up, he walked a few feet away from her and reached down to take the hated mask from the floor.

With his back to her, Meg watched Raoul curiously. He soon turned to face the crowd and pulled his pistol from his side. Firing two shots into the air, he managed to catch everyone's attention instantly.

They turned their unruly eyes upon him, the disturbance slowing their movements to a hushed silence.

He met their stares evenly, holding his pistol at arms length and commanding their attention. "You can _all_ go home now. I've dealt with the monster that dwelt here."

A few heads nodded in approval at his words, while others held their doubts.

"Rest assured, mes amis, he died sniveling at my feet!" he stated with unwavering conviction.

"We want _PROOF_ he is dead! We won't leave without proof!" the mob roared in many voices.

"_HERE_ is your proof!" he tossed the Phantom's mask across the room, watching as its alabaster visage traveled through the air.

A flash of white was all the crowd could make out before it fell and slid across the porous ground, finally settling before their feet. There it lay, ghostly and mocking--partially covered in a crimson hue.

"I shot him in the head and kicked his foul carcass into the lake!" he spat out in feigned disgust and pointed out over the black waters beyond the lair.

The mob looked at him a moment and again spoke amongst each another with questioning looks and muttering voices.

"And what of Mademoiselle Daae?" A voice called out suspiciously from the very back, challenging the viscount's claim. His dark skin and unusual accent marked him instantly as a foreigner.

Something about the man's tone made Raoul curious as to what his involvement was in this night's events. He did not have the bearing of the rest of this rabble, but carried himself erect and proud.

The men around the stranger agreed with his outburst, wondering what exactly _had_ become of their precious prima donna. They had overlooked that detail, in their haste to bring the Phantom and his lair to ruin.

"I sent her above ground to safety, before putting the creature out of its misery!" Raoul's face was grim in the ruddy light of the torches and fires, the stern look in his eyes leaving little to doubt his sincerity.

The foreigner held his stare for a long while, searching. Finally, he bowed his head once in acceptance, conceding any further questions. He swiftly spun and made his exit without another word.

It was not long before others began to follow. They slowly dispersed in silence, save for a few disappointed groans and muffled whispers. The many combustible objects in the lair were now burning merrily, and more than a few small and precious items had managed to find their way into a pocket or two. If the beast was dead, then there was no need to argue any further. The young man that stood before them was a well-respected nobleman and a lieutenant of the French Navy. It was _his_ plan that had been set in motion in the first place; to be rid of the treacherous Phantom of the Opera once and for all. There was no reason for them to distrust his words.

As the last group of men disappeared past the iron grating, Raoul made his way back to Meg's side. He sat her up and inspected the wound to her head, drawing a sharp wince of pain from the woman. "I'm afraid this will require stitching. I shall escort you to the hospital and see that you are taken care of right away"

Without warning, she wrapped her small arms around him in overwhelming gratitude. "Oh, monsieur! Thank you for saving them! But how did you make it so real? The blood—"

"It was yours, mademoiselle…from your wound when I cradled your head. I made use of what little I could, and fortunately the fiend's mask lay conveniently nearby. Had I not been able to retrieve my pistol before making my way back to this godforsaken place, it would have been next to impossible to convince those men of that bastard's demise." He took a moment to look around him, smaller fires slowly burning themselves out. _It's as harsh and as ugly as he is. _"I ask that you not mistake my intentions. I did this for you and Christine. I will never have compassion for that _savage_! I owe him nothing!" he stated aloud in disdain. _Still, I can't help but wonder how they escaped…_

"No matter the reasons, I thank you, monsieur! Things could have been much worse without you here." She looked up at him and smiled. "I'm glad you came back and handled those crazed men. You were amazing!" she gushed emphatically and held onto him tighter.

He was taken aback at her sudden outpouring of affection and he could not fathom how much strength such a small girl could have. "Can…you stand?" he asked, beginning to feel uncomfortable within her hold.

As she tried to get her footing, she wobbled slightly, before falling back into Raoul's awaiting arms.

"It seems I will have to carry you, if you will permit me. The loss of blood has clearly made you unfit to travel unassisted."

She nodded once, allowing him to steady his arms about her, just before he swept her up and off the ground with ease.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the heavy drape that concealed Christine's exit, burning brightly now and fluttering in the flames--almost exposing the secret behind it. Smoothly, she shifted her weight so that Raoul was forced to adjust, turning him away from noticing it himself. She trusted the viscount to a certain degree, but she had made a promise to keep her friend's whereabouts private. And she would do so, no matter the circumstances.

"Try to relax. I'll have you in the care of a doctor in no time at all," he said with a slight reassuring smile at her, his eyes already looking off into the distance.

Within the strength of his arms, she clung to him. Comforted by his warmth, she closed her eyes and brought her silken blond head to rest against his chest. _Maman will never believe this! What an amazing turn of events... _she grinned in amusement. Her smile quickly faded as her eyes flashed open in further thought. _And yet, once she finds out I was down here, I'll be submitted to doing kitchen work for the next several weeks!_ _Never mind the extended hours she will undoubtedly add to my ballet instruction, in spite of it all!_ she sighed in unavoidable frustration.

Feeling her sudden tension within his grasp, Raoul resolved to quicken his pace, believing she was in more pain than he had realized.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Darkness surrounded Christine. She was frightened. She hadn't thought about bringing anything to light her way. So caught up in her mission to find him, there was no time to think of anything else. She let her hands glide along the walls of the passage. It seemed endless. She could barely make out the fading sounds of the mob in the distance behind her. She stumbled, her hand flying up to her mouth, as she heard two shots ring out. _"Dear God, please let Meg be safe. I won't be able to forgive myself for leaving her if she falls into danger."_ She crossed herself and stepped forward once again, praying her journey into this darkness would come to an end soon.

There were several turns, as the floor seemed to slope and rise, as she moved throughout the passageway. Christine had lost track of time and the coldness all around her was making its way into her very core. She wanted to close her arms around herself to keep warm, but she couldn't lose contact with the wall. It was the only thing guiding her. At that last thought, she came to a stop. Feeling her hands along the sides of the passageway and the wall in front of her, all she could feel was cool, hard stone. _"This can't be!"_ She fought a battle within her mind. _"Did I miss a turn? How could this be it? I couldn't have walked all this way, only to come to this!"_ She fingered the surface all about her, checking every little crack and crevice for any sign of a secret it may hold.

Nothing.

She slowly slumped to the ground, defeated and in hysterics. "Dear God, my father promised to send the Angel of Music to me…and he had! Yet, I denied him, betrayed him, feared him…" her voice trailed but not before adding, "I loved him!" She pulled up her legs and rested her head against her knees, as she sobbed.

"There is no _Angel of Music_. Only a man… No, a _DEMON_!" A slight hysteria of a whisper mocked into her ear.

"Angel? Angel, where are you? Please! I _must_ see you!" Christine felt a small spark of hope reach her heart.

"_Why_ have you come here, Christine? Is it not _enough_ to see your precious _'Angel'_ defeated? Do you wish to tear my heart from my chest to see once and for all that a repulsive _carcass_ truly _is_ capable of loving someone… of loving _you_!" The Phantom had hissed his last statement to make it undeniably clear to her.

"_Please_, Angel, listen to me! I love you! Please show yourself. I _need_ you!" Christine's pleas seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.

A cynical laughter could be heard echoing across the cavern walls. "What of your precious _Vicomte_? What of that _BOY_ you so obviously _love_ and cannot live without? Am I _mad,_ Christine? Or did I not hear you profess your love to one another on the rooftop? You said I hardly _had_ a face! I saw you kiss that _BOY_! All you do is break my heart, over and over again, Christine. I cannot take any more of your childish games. Leave me! You didn't have a problem leaving me to be with him tonight. I watched you sail away, as you sang to each other as _lovers _do!" He spat the words out. "You won't have a problem leaving me yet again, Christine. Go… _GO NOW_!" The Phantom roared. He closed his eyes trying to calm his rage and whispered, "Please just go, Christine…" Her name faded upon his lips, as silence filled the air once more.

A soft, broken sobbing could be heard all around Christine. She couldn't think. Her mind was filled with all the things he had said to her. Words bathed in anguish, pain, and despair. And now he was crying. She couldn't bear to have her Angel in such pain. It was killing her. She stood up, willing herself to find her voice. "I will _NOT_ leave! I _LOVE _you!" She retorted, her face twisting in anger, "You _ignorant_ fool!" She stopped suddenly, held against the wall, the words stuck in her throat, as she felt his hands gripping around her neck. She feared him no more. She was willing to accept her fate, even if it was to end at this moment. At least she would die at the hands of her Angel, for she would surely not want to live without him otherwise.

"_Why_ do you do this to me, Christine? _Why_ do you torture me so?" The Phantom shouted, as he looked at her, dead in the eyes. He sneered and gave her an icy glare, the tears in his eyes subsiding. He couldn't believe her indifference in his grip. Her words were so bold, coming from such a child. _"Was she still a child?"_ He pondered. She seemed so much a woman and strong at this moment. She would have never dared to raise her voice to him in this manner before. He loosened his grip, as he faded into the darkness, cursing himself for putting a harmful hand on her.

Without missing a beat, Christine continued, trying to adjust her eyes to where he had gone, but alas, the darkness was all too consuming. "I _wanted_ to stay with you! I looked to you to hold me and keep me by your side after I had kissed you that second time. I was _promising_ you, wanting to lead you from your solitude forever! Are you blind? I know now that it was _you_ I truly loved, _not_ Raoul! I do love him…"

The Phantom winced at that sentiment, but then Christine continued.

"But _only_ as a dear friend."

With that said, The Phantom relaxed.

Christine's tears swelled, as she continued, praying for her Angel to hear her. "I _curse_ myself for not finding out sooner where my true heart really belonged… with _you,_ my Angel! Please _forgive_ my foolish heart! I'm _truly_ sorry for all the pain I've caused you. I know you have had such trials and hardships in life. I _hate_ myself for adding to your misery. I'm sorry, Angel… I'm sorry…" She shuddered and shook, as her sobs wracked her body and rendered her to her knees. She fell forward, pounding her fists onto the jagged stone surface, not caring that she was tearing into her flesh. She laid her head against the unforgiving floor and wept.

There was just too much for The Phantom to absorb, in such little time. The night was proving to be very trying on the once calm and collected Opera Ghost. He could hear her sobs, those tears he couldn't bear. Even when she was a child, he could never stand to see nor hear his Angel in such agony. It had become his undoing.

"_Do I dare take my chances yet again? What would become of us this time?"_

"**_Go to her!_**" His mind screamed.

"_NO, I can't!_"

"**_She loves you. You heard it_.**" The voice of reason hammered at him.

"_Who could love a monster?"_

"**_Stop this self pity. Take her in your arms and love her!_** " His rational side demanded.

"_I couldn't. She doesn't want this, this gargoyle of a man!"_ He grabbed at his face with disgust.

"**_There's no fear for her any longer. Only love._**"

He mocked himself at this thought and continued to battle his inner demons.

"_I can't bear to lose her, not again._" He lowered his head and sighed.

"**_Then go to her or face your fears, for she WILL be gone if you don't_.**"

His mind ceased to calm.

The Phantom stood in silence. The war of words subsided. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and straightened himself into a collected manner.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To darklady5289, PrinceDiamondLuver, and sweetxseduction, thanks so much for the words of encouragement. It means a lot to me to have you all interested in my first time venture. I hope not to let anyone down. -hugs- 


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Christine didn't know how long she lay there. It seemed an eternity. She had just begun to give up all hope, when suddenly something warm wrapped around her trembling cold flesh. The Phantom gracefully covered her small frame with a blanket. They looked into each other's eyes. There was no longer any room for words. Everything was being said in that moment, as they gazed into one another's souls. He reached for Christine's face and drew her close to him. She closed her eyes, as he traced along the sides of her face with his fingers. His lips found hers and there was no hidden meaning this time. This kiss was pure and forged of love for one another.

Christine opened her mouth slightly, inviting him in further, but she drew in a breath, as he moved away from her. A few tears escaped her, as she wondered why he broke their kiss.

The Phantom didn't want to ruin something so sweet and innocent. He cursed his body. The fire was hot, raging inside of him. He wanted her, but this was much too soon. It had taken everything inside him to break away from her, as he felt her lips part slightly. The tears he saw her shed woke him from his beastly urges. "Shhhh, no more anger, no more tears." His calming words soothed her. "Come inside, Christine. We must get you warm before you catch your death of cold."

Christine lifted her head slightly in disbelief. She could see a faint light, where once there was just stone. She raised herself up and felt herself being pulled toward the warmth of the room before her.

He led her to a small pile of blankets in the corner. Making sure she was seated upon the mound, he walked over to the other corner of the room, where he added another log into the flames.

The room was small, but big enough to house a small chair and table. Against the far wall, she could make out a few crates, not knowing their contents, but surely it was provisions of some sort. She watched him lift the lid of the top crate and gather a few items from them. He turned, walking gracefully toward her, and seated himself in front of her with his legs crossed. All she could do was lose her self in his eyes.

The Phantom furrowed his eyebrows, as he slowly reached for her hands. "This will need bandaging, mon ange…"

Christine couldn't find her voice. She still couldn't believe she was here before him.

"Christine, you really should be careful. Your beautiful hands should not be subject to injury such as these," he said with concern, as he slowly began to clean the dried blood from her hands and proceeded to dress them.

She was utterly confused. _"Had he not refused me? But if he had, why am I here with him now?"_ She wouldn't question it. She'd take what she'd been given and ease her way back into his good graces.

"There. Let's not make this a habit, mademoiselle. You're far too fragile for this kind of behavior." Looking intensely into her eyes, he gently raised her hands up, kissing them, and placed them in her lap, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Angel, I…" Christine was silenced as The Phantom placed a finger to her lips.

"Get some sleep, mon ange. We shall talk after you've rested."

Christine had many questions she wanted to ask. "But Angel, I…"

His touch silenced her once more, as he laid his hands on her shoulders, easing her to lie down.

Her eyelids were heavy from the entire night's events. She could no longer resist the sleep that came, as she closed her eyes.

As her breathing became deep and even, The Phantom made sure the blankets were secure around her and brushed away a stray curl that had fallen across her face. There she slept, his Angel from Heaven. _"Is there in fact a God, which has granted me this gift, laying before me now?"_ He marveled. He kissed her forehead, ever so gently, and walked over to the small table and chair. He sat down and stretched his long legs in front of him. _"Surely, I won't get any sleep tonight,"_ he thought to himself, as the memories of the night crashed onto the shores of his mind._ "I've gone longer without sleep before. Tonight shouldn't be such a chore," _he concluded.

And so he sat, a smile upon his face, fleeting, watching the firelight dance across his Angel's face… his Christine… HIS!

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To: Pertie, Twinkle22, Mz. Kelsi, So Red The Rose, xxphantomphanessxx, and Hearts Aflame! -hugs- Thanks for the wonderful reviews. I'm so glad to gain a few more readers. 


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Raoul ran his fingers impatiently through his long blonde hair, "Doctor, may I see her now?" He asked.

"Yes, you may. She's just down the hall to your right." Dr. Necosi waved and pointed to a door, pen in hand. "We had to give her a sedative to help her relax."

As Raoul made his way down the hallway, he was caught on the shoulder, and spun around on his heel. "Ah, Madame Giry." Raoul acknowledged and bowed.

"My daughter, Monsieur Vicomte?" She asked sternly.

Raoul pointed and replied, "She's just down here. I was about to go in and sit with her..." he began, but was abruptly cut off.

"I shall see my daughter alone, Monsieur," she said, as she opened the door and quickly closed it behind him.

Raoul, defeated, sighed and strode back to the small waiting room.

Barely able to keep her eyes open and focused, Meg peered in front of her, "Maman?"

Madame Giry looked at her daughter with concern. "Shhhh, I'm here now, chéri."

Meg held onto her mother's hand tightly. "I'm sorry if I worried you. I know I shouldn't have gone down there to his lair, but Maman, Raoul, he saved me. He saved Christine! And you know what else? He saved The Phantom, but he says he didn't wish to do that. Raoul carried me all the way to the hospital. Can you believe that?"

Meg was speaking a mile a minute before her mother gave her a steely glare.

"Oh sorry, Maman, you know how my words run away with me." She blushed.

Madame Giry sighed and placed her hand against Meg's cheek. "Child, there will be time to talk once I get you home, but for now, get some rest."

Meg thought about going home and smiled. "I can't wait to get out of this dreadful hospital and back to my own bed!"

Madame Giry hesitated slightly before asking, "There is something I must know immediately. Meg, dearest, did you see The Phantom and Christine together and safe?"

Meg felt as if she were about to gossip like she often did in the opera dormitories. "Well, I know Christine went through the broken mirror. There was a passage there. And Raoul told the mob he had killed the Phantom…"

Meg gathered her thoughts as Madame Giry's hand flew to her mouth in astonishment.

"Do not worry, he is not dead, and the mob is no longer after him. I know he is an old friend of yours. Really, Maman, I don't know why you never told me that you were close to the Opera Ghost." Meg rolled her eyes at her mother playfully.

"Megan Giry! You've been looking amongst my personal things!" Madame Giry scolded.

Meg drew in her breath and exhaled, "No, Maman. I saw you one night as you handed his salary to him and he gracefully kissed your hand. I was frightened at first, but then I realized that I shouldn't be if he hadn't harmed you."

Madame Giry was slightly impressed and relieved. "Well, mon chéri, even amongst all your sneaking about and gossiping around the opera house, it seems I was still able to raise a very smart young lady." She kissed Meg on her forehead and then made her way toward the door. She turned to Meg and said, "I shall see you in the morning. Please try to keep your knowledge to a minimum dearest…"

Meg looked at her mother with surprise. "Maman! I may be a blabbermouth, but when it comes to Christine, she is like a sister to me. I will keep her privacy… especially for Le Fantôme!" She grinned.

Madame Giry raised an eyebrow in suspicion, as she reached for the doorknob. "By the way, Meg, you have a visitor... Le Vicomte de Chagny!" Madame Giry swung the door open and Raoul almost tumbled in.

He was able to compose himself and coughed to clear his throat, "Ladies." He bowed to them. He hadn't been at the door long. In fact, he had just barely arrived, having been impatiently sitting in the waiting room.

"Monsieur! I'm so glad to see you!" Meg blushed profusely.

A small grin crept onto Madame Giry's face. "I need to run off now and make arrangements for a new rehearsal hall for the girls."

Meg smiled at her mother. "Give my love to those poor ballet rats!" She giggled.

* * *

**Author's Note **  
I'm using really basic French words every now and then. It shouldn't deter from following the story though. I gather most of you have read several fan fics already that use French, so I'm guessing no one will be too surprised with the usage here. -hugs- 


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Christine woke to the sound of the fire crackling in the corner. She rolled over to her side to see The Phantom sleeping with his head upon the desk. _"He looks like a schoolboy who's gotten bored with his studies," _she thought to herself. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He bolted upright and was immediately awake.

"Christine, are you cold? What's wrong? Do you need something?"

She smiled at is concern for her then answered, "There's enough room over there for the both of us, Angel. Please come lay next to me. You'll become terribly stiff sleeping in that manner and the body heat will do us both good," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"Do not worry about me, mon ange, I do not sleep much," he said to her simply. _"Did I not tell myself earlier I would not get any sleep tonight? The irony of it all!"_ He mocked himself. "Besides, I would hate to intrude on you in such a fashion." The Phantom gestured with his hand at the makeshift bed of blankets in the corner.

Christine took his hands in hers and looked at him with pleading eyes, "Please…" Her voice trailed off into the air between them.

"_How could I possibly deny her?"_ That look would be the death of him. He would never be able to refuse her.

She motioned for him to lie down and get comfortable, and as he positioned himself closely to the wall, bringing his hands up behind his head, she climbed in next to him. She lifted the blanket around them both and nestled herself against him. She sensed the faintest hint of spices. _"His cologne,"_ she thought to herself. Wrapping her arm across his chest, she could hear his heart racing.

The Phantom couldn't believe how extremely close she was. Being able to feel her clinging to him was sheer bliss. The smell of her skin and hair, a mix of roses and lavender, was drifting and filling his senses. _"I could die right now and be complete,"_ he thought. He slowly drew back his hand to gently caress her tresses that lay scattered about them both.

Without a thought, Christine looked up at him and said, "Angel, I love you."

Sighing, he corrected her sentiment of Angel as he responded, "I love you too, but I am no Angel..." he closed his eyes and whispered softly, "just Erik."

Christine asked quizzically, "What did you say, Angel?"

He took a deep breath and then answered her, "My name… It's Erik. I am no Angel, Christine. Just a man named Erik."

Christine pondered this new information then tested his name on her tongue. "Erik, yes, it suits you very much… Erik…" she mumbled a few times.

At the sound of his name on her lips, he swore he had never heard anything more heavenly, as she said it.

"Erik, to me, you will always be my Angel of Music as well," she said solemnly, with no room for him to argue. She held him closer and he placed a kiss into the mess of curls upon her head.

"Sleep now, mon chér." Erik said as he closed his eyes.

Christine let out a small yawn and smiled as sleep once again took her.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To my regular readers as well as my new ones: Alucard's Secret Lover, wiseupjanetweiss, and corruptmind21. Thanks for reviewing and glad you are enjoying the read! -hugs- Updates as soon as humanly possible everyone. -smiles- 


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Raoul reached for Meg's hand and kissed it, as he brought himself to a seated position beside her on the bed. "Was your mother's visit a pleasant one, mademoiselle?" He searched her face for answers, with a smile.

"Very much so! Yet, she can be rather brooding at times, but, well, that is Maman," she let out with a sigh. "Please, call me Meg. I would hope there would be no formalities between us after all the things you have done for me," she glanced at him with an encouraging look.

"Very well then, little Meg, how are you faring? If you need anything, I need only send word and it would be arranged."

Meg eyed Raoul, as she thought how handsome he was in this moment. It was just like when she had first seen him at the opera house. _"Very charming too!"_ She flushed at the thought. "I'm quite fine, thank you! Dr. Necosi says that I shall be able to return home tomorrow and that there will be very little scarring. It only took a few stitches and with all this hair, no one will ever know it's there!" She fussed as she tangled her golden mass all about her.

Raoul couldn't help but let a laugh escape him. He found Meg to be amusing and yet something about her stirred him. He leaned forward and brushed her hair away from her face, gently letting it fall to her sides.

Meg closed her eyes, as he touched her. _"What's happening to me?" _She thought to herself, as butterflies danced inside her belly.

Raoul leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. "Tomorrow I shall bring you my carriage and escort you home. Perhaps you could join me for dinner then?" He paused a moment, questioning himself. _"Am I being too bold with my last request?" _He found it so easy to let things fly out of his mouth without a thought. _"This girl's carefree nature is catching. What of Christine? Is this not odd behavior for a man that was engaged just hours ago?"_ The thoughts raced in his mind, coming to a halt at the reality of losing his Lotte. He collected himself and glanced back at Meg. "I apologize, Meg. I didn't mean to be so hasty. You may want to rest upon arriving home. It was foolish of me to…" he paused as she placed a hand on top of his.

"I would love to dine with you, Raoul." She looked into his ocean blue eyes without blinking.

He beamed at her acceptance to his invitation. "It's settled then! What time will you be released from the hospital?"

"She is to be discharged at 8am, Monsieur Vicomte." Dr. Necosi stated as he entered the room, chart in hand. "Forgive the intrusion, but it is time for Mademoiselle Giry to get her rest."

Raoul nodded at the doctor. "Of course, Doctor." He winked at Meg and placed a chaste kiss to her hand. "Until tomorrow, Mademoiselle..."

Meg smiled at him playfully. "Until tomorrow, my good Monsieur..."

Raoul made his way out front, waving to his driver to bring the carriage around. "To the Chagny Estate," he directed Francois. "Very well, Monsieur." Francois closed the door behind the Vicomte.

On the ride to his estate, Raoul's thoughts drifted between sleep and Christine. He wondered how she was and what she was doing at that moment.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8  
**  
Madame Giry shuffled her feet across the foyer of the ruined Opera Populaire. She had renewed rehearsals in a smaller building, not too far away from her flat, but there were no scheduled teachings for today. She simply had to go down to his lair to find them, hopefully safe. Hours had passed and all she had to go on were her daughter's words. She made her way to her old room. _"Thank God the fire did not reach here,"_ she thought to herself. She crossed the room to her small closet in the corner. Pushing her dresses aside, she felt along the back panel and clicked a small depression at the top corner. Thanking God a second time that Erik had not barred this passage, she slipped carefully inside and made her descent down to his home.

* * *

Inspecting the few burned items the mob had claimed with their torches, something had caught his foreign eye upon the floor. He made his way towards it, knowing full well what it was as he drew near. He bent down to pick up the neglected object. "It's not like you to leave without your treasured mask, Erik." Nadir half grinned at the sight as he spoke to himself aloud. The next thing he heard didn't surprise him too much, as he sensed he was near. 

"And it's not like _you_ to be rummaging around my things, Daroga!" Erik sneered.

Nadir turned around and took a good look at his old dear friend. "I see you've found a replacement for this." Nadir held up the bloodied white mask. "And dare I say it Erik? You, my dear boy, look like…" he was abruptly interrupted.

"Merde! I know. You need not remind me, Daroga. It's because of _this,_" he flashed his hands before him, displaying his tattered clothes, "that I am here. I must clean myself up!"

Erik strode about his abode, taking in the sight, and calculating his steps. He shook his head in frustration. His disheveled hair hung loosely into his face. "Those inconceivable brutes! How could they do this to my home?"

Nadir looked upon him in amusement, "Well, did you not _give_ them reason to exact their vengeance? Luckily not upon you, my friend, but upon your things..." Nadir's arms moved about in a grand showing.

"Shut up, Daroga! You need not mock me!" Erik glared icily.

His next words did not hinder the Persian in the slightest.

"Why _are_ you here, Daroga? Have you come to keep an eye on me?" He said with annoyance.

"Now, Erik, you know exactly _why_ I've come," Nadir stated clearly. "I've come to see that no harm has been made towards that lovely Prima Donna of yours… Mademoiselle Christine Daae."

Erik flinched at Nadir's insinuation. He made his way towards him, mere inches from the Persian's face. "You know very well that I would _never_ harm her. You try my patience, Daroga!" Erik hissed.

"Perhaps, but _you_ never cease to amaze me. What is it they call you around here? Ah, yes, _Opera Ghost_!" Nadir knew he was pushing his luck, but he also knew that after all his times in Persia with Erik, he'd never do anything to harm him. He relished in this fact.

Erik gripped high onto Nadir's tunic, "I could snap your neck for being so _insolent_!"

Both men turned their focus to the other end of the lair at the sound of a gasp and an astonished Madame Giry covering her gaping mouth.

"Ah, Madame Giry! It's an honor to finally meet the woman that has held this _beast_ at bay for so many years!" Nadir smiled and strode over to Madame Giry and offered his hand to her.

Erik scowled inwardly as he bowed slightly to Madame Giry, "Annette."

"Where is Christine and why did it seem as if you two were about to kill each other?" Annette demanded.

"That foreign fellow is an old friend, Annette. He _was_ the Daroga of Persia. As much as I would _love_ to kill that man," he pointed at Nadir, "I owe him my life for saving me those many years ago." Erik stated flatly.

"I shall be dead one day, my friend, but _not_ at your hands, so fear not." Nadir mocked.

"_Daroga!_ Don't you…" Erik did not get to finish his threat.

"Quiet the both of you! Where is Christine?" Madame Giry was on the verge of lashing them both.

"I assure you, good Madame, that she is well. She still sleeps." Erik paused to think, _"But I fear not for long with how we are all carrying on."_ He cursed himself.

Madame Giry took in the sight around her and shook her head. "I'll prepare some tea; the two of you clean up this mess!" At the tap of her cane, they both flinched and busied themselves to the task at hand.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To all my faithful readers, and PrinceDiamondLuver for reviewing so quickly, big hugs to you all! -HUG- 


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Christine stirred, as she groggily opened her eyes. She had slept so soundly, so content, that she hadn't noticed Erik had left. A rose lay beside her along with a note. She brought the delicate beauty up to her nose and took in the sweet scent of its bloom. Carefully, she opened the letter to read its contents.

_**Mon Ange,**_

_**I returned to my home to assess the damage and to clean myself up. My apologies for having you sleep next to a man that was less than satisfactory in groomed appearance. I did not want to wake you, as you undoubtedly needed rest. I shall return soon.**_

_**Yours,**  
**Erik**_

Christine hadn't minded his scent throughout the night, but she knew very well how her Angel took pride in always looking his best. She noticed he had substituted his white mask for the black one. She hoped that one day he wouldn't feel the need to wear a mask, at least not around her. A smile came across her face at the thought. She let out a yawn and stretched, like a cat that had napped the day away.

She picked herself up and straightened the wrinkles out of her dress as best she could. _"This was lovely at one point."_ She looked upon her gown. Erik had forced her to wear the wedding dress upon arriving to his lair in such haste. She had hardly noticed the intricate weavings of lace and the opalescent sequins that were scattered about so strategically. The golden accents highlighting the ensemble finished the masterpiece. _"So like Erik to have picked out something so simple, yet so complex in perfection,"_ she sighed. It was a shame to see it as it was now.

Her stomach grumbled. Christine then realized she hadn't had anything to eat since the day before the now infamous Don Juan production. She looked around the little room and found herself at the crates along the wall. Poking around a few, all she found were a few medical supplies, more blankets, empty sheets of music paper, inks, candles, quills, and, _"Ah some crackers!"_ She smiled.

She brought the box to the table and sat herself down. Saying a quick prayer, she crossed herself and nimbly worked at the container. She took one out and snapped it in half. Frowning before placing it in her mouth, she thought, _"Stale… oh well, it will have to do."_ She rubbed her stomach trying to calm it, as she chewed.

"Would you like some tea, Christine?" Erik smiled as he looked upon her scrunching face.

Startled and almost choking on the dry bits of cracker, unmoving down her throat, she could only nod in compliance.

He reached for her hand and kissed it as he pulled her up from her seated position. "Come, mon amour. Madame Giry wishes to hold court with us."

Christine placed a hand at his shoulder. Clearing her throat as best she could, she mumbled, "Madame Giry?"

"It's quite a long story, mon ange. I shall tell you of it soon." Erik lifted a hand under her chin and she smiled. Turning again to the direction of his home, he led her down the passage, her dainty hand held within his.

Christine wondered why on earth Madame Giry was here and what part she played in Erik's life. As the light at the other end began to grow, she found herself on edge with anticipation. Walking into her Angel's home, she was startled. She had expected to see it in ruin, but surprisingly there was little damage, and she noticed it seemed to have been picked up a bit too. The strange foreigner that appeared at the opposite end of the room had come as a shock, and she gasped suddenly. She expected Madame Giry, but wasn't prepared for this odd, dark skinned man in strange dress.

"My apologies, mon ange. The Daroga has that effect on women," Erik snickered.

Nadir shot a dirty look at Erik as he approached Christine holding out his hand.

Hesitantly she offered her hand to him.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Daae," Nadir bent forward to kiss her hand.

"Monsieur," Christine nodded.

"Nadir. You may call me Nadir, Mademoiselle. Unlike my friend here, who _insists_ on reminding me of my title of Daroga."

Erik clenched his fists at Nadir's remark.

"Then please, call me Christine." She quickly countered, sensing the tension, although she found it more like some strange kind of friendly bantering. She giggled slightly inside.

"Christine, come have some tea. I've warmed some rolls as well. You need to eat child." Madame Giry gestured to the setting she had placed on top of the table.

Christine ran to her and embraced her, ignoring her stomachs pleas at that moment. Madame Giry was like a mother to her. "Where is Meg? Is she alright?" Christine asked, fearing the worst.

"Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had a run in with that terrible mob. She acquired an injury to her head at the hands of that ruthless crowd, but le Vicomte was able to get her to a hospital to have it taken care of. She comes home tomorrow morning." Madame Giry motioned at one of the chairs for Christine to sit in.

"Erik, Nadir, please come join us." Madame Giry glanced at the two men in the corner eyeballing each other.

Madame Giry's words filtered inside of Christine's mind and she took a sip of her tea. _"Raoul had come back? He took care of Meg? What of the mob and why was there no eagerness to flee from their wrath? Would they not come back in search of my Angel?"_ Her mind drifted back to Raoul. _"Why on earth would Raoul return?"_ She was sure that he had fled the opera house after they had said their goodbyes. _"What possessed him to return?"_ As she weighed the questions in her mind, she concluded that, no matter the reason, she was glad that he had returned, for Meg's sake. "I'll have to thank him someday." She whispered to herself.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Thanks to my regular readers! I've been inspired enough to keep going. I cannot express enough how much I appreciate all your kind words. I'm humbled. Thank you all! Special hugs to my newest reader PhantomLover05! Enjoy! -hug- 


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

"The Chagny Estate," Francois stated as he opened the carriage door.

Raoul stepped out and wearily glanced up at the grand estate where he resided. He let out a sigh and continued up toward the entrance.

"Monsieur Vicomte, will you require anything? Perhaps one of the maids can draw you a bath?" The butler couldn't help but notice the Raoul's drawn out demeanor, as he held the door open for his master.

"No, nothing… Thank you, Jacques." Raoul removed his jacket and handed it to Jacques. "I shall be in my study. Please have Therese bring me some tea within the hour. Also, have my carriage prepared in the morning. I shall be escorting Mademoiselle Giry to her home from the hospital." With that, Raoul turned on his heel toward his study.

Raoul turned down the gas lamp that sat upon his mahogany desk and sank into his leather chair. He thought about clearing up some of the business papers that were cluttered before him, but his mind kept drifting to Christine. A knock at the door woke him from his thoughts.

"Your tea Monsieur, as requested," the voice on the other side stated.

Raoul rubbed at his chin as he answered, "Enter, Therese."

"Where shall you take your tea, Monsieur?" She asked, holding onto the tray.

"The table by the settee will be fine," Raoul gestured.

"Very well..." Therese sat the tray down onto the table and made her way out of the study.

Raoul walked over to the tray and poured himself a cup. He sat down on the settee and removed his boots. Relaxing against the backing, he reached for his teacup and enjoyed the warm liquid traveling down his throat. He sighed, placing the teacup back down onto the table and closed his eyes. There was nothing more to do but sleep. He welcomed the escape to rid his mind of his thoughts, if only for the night.

"_Pitiful creature of darkness… What kind of life have you known…? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone…" Christine placed the ring on her finger and kissed The Phantom._

"_Good God, Christine, what are you doing? Don't do it! Don't throw your life away for my sake!" Raoul screamed._

"_Lotte? Can you not hear me? Christine… CHRISTINE!" _

_She did not hear him._

_Raoul's frustrations grew. "Why does she not hear me?"_

"_She doesn't love you. She'll never hear you," a voice whispered._

_Raoul questioned in anguish, "Whose is that voice? Show yourself!"_

"_Let her be Raoul… let her be…" The voice faded and then there was silence._

_The kiss between The Phantom and Christine seemed to last a lifetime. As they pulled apart from each other Christine looked towards Raoul. What he saw shocked him beyond belief. It was no longer Christine._

_Raoul gasped, "Meg?"_

Raoul sat upright, breathing heavily. He was sweating profusely. "I don't understand." He slicked his hair back with both hands. "Why would I dream _that_ and _why_ was Meg there?" A knock at the door caught his attention.

"Enter," Raoul commanded.

"Monsieur Vicomte, your carriage is nearly ready. Do you wish to have the maids prepare your clothing and draw you a bath now?" Jacques questioned.

"Is it morning already, Jacques?" Raoul stood up from the settee.

Jacques looked upon his master sympathetically. "I'm afraid so. Shall I tell the maids to prepare then?"

Raoul nodded. "Yes, Jacques, that will be fine. You may go now."

His bath had been quick but quite refreshing. He glanced at himself in the mirror, making sure his attire was to his liking. As he stared back at his reflection, he was lost for a brief moment. _"That dream…" _he thought to himself. He shook his head, straightened his jacket, and walked down the stairs to meet Jacques.

"Your orders, Monsieur Vicomte?" Jacques inquired.

Raoul worked his leather gloves on as he dictated what was to be ready. "Tell the cook to have dinner ready at the usual time. He is to prepare pheasant and an assortment of vegetables from the garden. Wine from the cellar, red… and…" He pondered a moment. "A nice berry tart… Yes, that will do, Jacques."

"Very good, Monsieur," Jacques bowed as Raoul exited.

"Your carriage awaits, Vicomte." Francois motioned, holding the door open. "We shall be at the hospital on time."

"Good. We shant keep Mademoiselle Giry waiting," Raoul said as he entered the carriage.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Thanks again to my loyal readers! I love all the reviews! Also, hang tight for an actual plot to come. I'm in the early stages of character building. The lesser characters need "filling" in order to work into the story better. There is a reason to my madness. -points at Erik- Don't forget, I'm new, so the first time is always chaotic, isn't it? -grins- 


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Erik and Nadir walked over to the table and sat down as requested.

As they helped themselves to tea, Christine placed a hand over Madame Giry's hand and asked, "Erik told me you wished to speak to us?

Madame Giry reached for a roll and proceeded to butter it. "I find myself obliged to tell you all of what I've come to know so far. As you all know, Meg is in the hospital. She is fine and will be coming home in the morning. I went to visit her to see if she had any knowledge of the both of you. She did, but she also added a few interesting revelations of her own."

All eyes were focused on Madame Giry now, as she continued.

"The reason why there are no mobs and Gendarmes scattered about is because they believe that you, Monsieur Phantom, died at the hands of le Vicomte himself."

Erik stood abruptly. "An outrageous claim! Le Fantôme lives! I would never die at the hands of that _BOY_!"

Madame Giry glared at Erik. "Yes, we see that Monsieur, but it is a good thing that the people of Paris believe you to be dead. _Now sit down_!"

Erik grunted as he seated himself once again.

Madame Giry resumed, "I have no other details at this time, though I plan to find out more once Meg is at home. I do worry about Meg's sudden attachment to le Vicomte. I do not pretend to know what happened between Monsieur Vicomte and you, Christine, but I find it strange that he would look to Meg so suddenly, no?"

Christine sat twisting her fingers in knots. It was a habit she had when she was younger, whenever she was worried about something. _"Raoul had come back for Meg? He found her interesting? Was he going to take comfort in her?_ The thoughts swirled around her and she wasn't sure what she was feeling. _"Am I jealous? Why would I be?_

Erik was watching her the whole time as Madame Giry spoke of Meg and Raoul. It always unnerved him to see Christine fretting with her hands in such a manner, but what disturbed him more was that look upon her face. _"Is that jealousy I see? Does she still have feelings for that BOY?"_ He questioned, as his thoughts began to betray him.

"**_She will leave you." _**

"_Quiet!"_

"**_She will go away again with him and leave you in your solitude." _**

"_She will not!"_

_**Back into the darkness!" **_

"_NO!"_

Erik's jaw tensed, as he closed his eyes.

Christine noticed the sudden change in her Angel's demeanor. _"Can he read my mind? I'm so terrible to think such things regarding Meg and Raoul. Why should I care at all? I know I love this man before me."_ She leaned over and kissed his left cheek.

At the contact of her lips on him, Erik opened his eyes and met with hers.

Christine mouthed the words, "I love you" and smiled at him.

His anger and the voices in his head seemed to melt away at her words of endearment to him.

Christine squeezed Madame Giry's hand with reassurance. "Madame Giry, if it's of any comfort, you do not need to worry about those two. Raoul is a gentleman and Meg is always so cheerful. Perhaps they are merely bonding a friendship."

Madame Giry sipped the last of her tea from her cup. "Perhaps you are right, Christine. We shall see in time. Now, we need to discuss the future."

The three of them looked upon Madame Giry curiously.

Erik took Christine's free hand into his own and smiled at her. "Annette, I have had time to lay out our plans."

Madame Giry cleared her throat slightly. "No doubt you have, Erik, but I'm sure there are things you have failed to include."

Erik raised an eyebrow and dared to ask, "And what might these _'things' _be, Madame?"

Wasting no time, Madame Giry said, "You have left a lot of people out of employment with you foolishness, Monsieur. Being the great architect that you are, I would think it would not be such a task for you to help in the opera's reconstruction. It will take more funding than Messieurs Andre, Firmin, and their patron le Vicomte could afford, to handle such a venture."

Erik cringed as she mentioned Raoul. _"That miserable fop of a BOY!"_ his mind screamed.

Nadir could see Erik squirm slightly in irritation and stifled a laugh.

Erik whipped his head around to glare at Nadir, before adding, "I'm more than capable of covering the rest of the funds needed in the rebuilding of the Opera Populaire. You know with my salary over the years, I am not a financial cripple, Annette. But I dare say, there are other things more pressing at the moment, Madame, and that is relocating Christine and I, that is, if she is willing." Erik squeezed her hand slightly. He feared her answer, should she reject him.

Christine didn't hesitate to answer him. "Of course I'm willing, Erik!" She blushed at her sudden outburst.

"Then let us concentrate on that at the moment. There will be plenty of time, once we are settled, to undertake the rest," Erik finalized.

"I sense I come into play somehow?" Nadir noted.

"Daroga, you will be escorting Mademoiselle Daae to procure us a home. Spare no expense. She may choose whatever her heart desires." Erik beamed as he saw Christine's cheeks redden.

"So you plan on staying in Paris, Erik? Nadir asked.

"Do you think that is wise?" Madame Giry added.

"Find us a place on the outskirts of Paris. We need to be close enough for the rebuilding. Also, I do not wish Christine to be so far from Meg to enjoy her company. We would draw far less attention away from the city and we would be able to live somewhat normal lives in a town not familiar with the Opera Ghost's tales," Erik noted.

"And _who _do we have to thank for those infamous tales?" Nadir grinned.

"_Daroga_!" Erik hissed.

"That is _enough_ from the two of you!" Madame Giry tapped her cane firmly, which made both of them freeze.

Christine couldn't help but giggle at the scolding Madame Giry was giving them. _"Just like the ballet rats,"_ she thought comically. Trying to clear the air, Christine proceeded, "Was that all you wished to discuss Madame Giry?"

"It is enough for now, non?" Madame Giry smiled at Christine. "And now we should go." She exchanged glances with Nadir as she stood up.

Erik placed a hand against Nadir's back. "Meet me in the morning, Daroga. We'll need to discuss things before you and Christine look for a new abode for us."

"Any place is better than _this_, Erik. Really, it's _so _morbid," Nadir sighed drearily.

"You may _go_ now, Daroga." Erik said, trying to force a smile in front of Christine.

Christine and Erik watched as the two made their way through the passage that Madame Giry had come from.

"Surely, the strangest couple I've ever seen," Erik joked.

Christine playfully slapped his arm and said, "Oh Erik, behave yourself!"

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Fluff alert next Chapter! -hugs- 


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note**  
Just to refresh everyone's memory, at the end of Chapter 11, Christine had just slapped Erik on the arm playfully and told him to behave himself...

On with the show…

**CHAPTER 12**

Erik pulled Christine against him. "Do you really wish me to behave, mon chér?"

Before she could answer his lips met hers. Her body relaxed in his arms as he caressed her back. She slid her hands underneath his shirt and felt his well-sculptured chest. He took in a breath as he felt her hands rubbing across him. He growled and kissed her with more force. At this, she couldn't help but part her lips invitingly. He curiously moved his tongue, touching it to her bottom lip. She whimpered slightly and he withdrew.

He had read about kissing and other such intimacies. Having free reign of the opera house granted him with several opportunities of viewing others coupling. By no means was he a peeping tom, but he had seen enough to know. Though he had never had the chance to practice anything he learned. _"All this knowledge might as well be nonexistent!"_ He thought in frustration

Christine looked into his eyes. Her penetrating brown eyes were pleading for him. He gently began to explore her mouth with his tongue once more, but this time hers met it. Their tongues danced together, both their bodies trembling, as this new sensation stirred within them. They were both so inexperienced, yet it made it all the more perfect. They would learn and teach each other the joys of the flesh. As their kiss reached a feverish intensity, Christine could feel something build in the pit of her stomach. Her hands moved all about his chest, circling and rubbing his warm skin.

Erik could sense his desire for Christine growing. He knew they were getting dangerously close to a point he would not be able to control. He quickly ended the kiss, leaving Christine breathless. "As much as I enjoyed that, mon chér, I fear we cannot continue." Erik was dumbstruck at his own words.

"Erik, my Angel, I do not understand… do you not want me as I want you? Did I do something wrong?" She bowed her head, frowning.

He reached under her chin for her to meet his gaze. "No, no. Do not mistake my words, mon ange. It is because you were doing everything so right! I want our first time to be perfect. Not here. Not like this." He gestured to himself. Rudely being interrupted earlier by Nadir, he never got the chance to clean himself up properly.

Christine looked at herself and realized she shared his unkempt appearance. She threw her arms around him in an embrace. "I love you, Erik. It will be perfect someday… soon I hope!" She blushed into his chest.

"I love you too, Christine." He kissed the top of her head.

Erik wouldn't make her wait long, but first a proposal was in order, a marriage, and an unforgettable wedding night to ensure the setting would be just right.

He secretly smiled to himself. "Come, Christine. We both could use a bath." Erik stated.

"Are you saying that I _stink, _Monsieur?" Christine darted a playful glare at him.

"I am saying that we _both_ stink, mon chér." Erik moved out of the way before Christine could slap him on the arm.

"Careful, Mademoiselle… You know what happened the last time we played this game." Erik winked at her before heading to his bathroom.

She was left with a smile, blushing profusely.

* * *

Christine eased herself into a hot bath. Her skin tingled as the rose water covered her. She massaged the lavender soap into her hair. She was pleased at all the things Erik had for her. He knew her so well. She smiled and she relaxed against the tub and let her eyes close for a moment.

* * *

Erik felt refreshed as he finished dressing into his night attire. _"That bath was well overdue!"_ he thought, as he combed his hair. He looked at his dresser. The black mask lay there indifferently. "This won't do," he said, as he held it up. He rummaged through several drawers until he came upon what he was looking for. _"Much better!"_ In his hand he held a white half mask, identical to the other he had discarded. _"At least this one won't cover up my entire face,"_ he reasoned. He was complete, once he set the mask in place. _"No, there is one thing left to complete me… Christine!"_ He smiled. 

**

* * *

**

Christine donned a light pink nightgown that was in her armoire. It fit perfectly, though she wasn't surprised. Erik had filled her room meticulously with everything she could possibly need. She sat at her vanity brushing through her curls. She was about to put it up but was interrupted.

"Leave it down, mon ange. It becomes you." Erik was hypnotized as she let her hair fall. It cascaded across her shoulders and settled along her back.

"These long curls get tangled when I sleep, Erik." She held a stray lock in her hand.

"Then I will brush it in the morning," he stated simply. "Are you ready for bed, bel ange?"

"Oui. I almost fell asleep in the tub!" She was mildly embarrassed of that.

Erik scooped her up and carried her to the swan bed. He gently placed her into it and began to cover her with the crimson silk sheets.

"Are you not joining me, Angel? We don't have to do anything but sleep. I will behave."

"I fear I will not be able to behave," Erik stated honestly.

"Please Erik? If I behave, you will too! I need you to hold me," Christine pouted.

"_Does she not know how she has me wrapped around her finger, bending to her will?"_ Erik sighed, knowing he would not win against her. He walked over to the other side of the swan bed and slid in-between the sheets.

She nestled her head against his chest. He brought his right arm around her, holding her to him. Her fingers stroked across the light patches of hair scattered across his chest, as he inhaled deeply.

"Erik?" Christine asked.

"Yes, mon ange?" Erik replied.

"How close are you with Madame Giry?" She asked looking up at him.

"I've known her since I was a boy. She saved me and brought me to the opera house." He answered delicately.

"Saved you?" Christine was puzzled.

"It's rather complicated and it also pains me to bring up my past. I've had nothing to be happy about in my life, until you came into it, mon ange." Erik admitted to her.

Christine furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry, Angel. I do not mean to pry or cause you pain. You can tell me someday when you're more comfortable."

Erik looked into her doe-eyed gaze and his anxiety within ceased momentarily. "I'll never be comfortable talking about my past, but it is unfair of me to keep it from you, Christine. I wish to tell you, so you don't have to wonder about it any longer." Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"_My mother never showed me any affection. She hid me in my room from birth and I was taken care of by the maid. I've known of this mask all my life. I was not allowed to take it off, except when I was bathed. I used to ask the maid why my mother never came to see me. She never answered me. She only shook her head when I asked such things."_

"_One day I removed my mask and looked upon the horror of my own face. I traced along the ridges and bumps. Some places were sunken in, almost hollow, and the color was so pale, you could visibly see the veins. I was frightened and angry as I quickly placed the mask back in place."_

Christine rubbed at his chest trying to comfort him.

"_I stormed into my mother's room and yelled at her. "**THIS is why you do not acknowledge me?**" I ripped my mask off and her eyes grew wide. I ran up to her and pointed at my face. "**THIS is why you do not love me, Mother?**" Her face started to redden with rage. She screamed at me to put my mask back on. "**I am your son! Why don't you love me? Even with THIS, you should love me!**" I wept and sank to the floor. I expected her to finally give in and love me as a mother should love her child. But instead I was rudely awakened by the slap of her hand across my face."_

Christine held him tighter. She was crying into his chest.

"Shhhh. It's alright, mon ange." He stroked her hair nervously, trying to hold back his own sea of tears as he continued.

"_I fell to the floor and she kicked me. She screamed for me to get out, over and over again, kicking me and beating her fists against my head and back. She dragged me by the hair, out of her room, and shut the door to me. I lay there weeping. I couldn't stand. I cried myself to sleep in front of her doorway. I woke up during the night and was able to stand thankfully. I walked to my room, grabbed a few things, stuffing them in a small bag, and left."_

"_For months I lived off the street, begging for money and food. I was either invisible to the world or mocked and feared. I almost starved to death on the streets until a band of gypsies came across me. They sheltered me and fed me. I thought surely I was saved. I was wrong. Once I got better, I was thrown into a cage and became a freak show. "**Come see the Devil's Child!**" They would say. I was whipped and beaten every time before they'd unveil me to the paying customers. The laughter and screams drove me into insanity. I don't know how I ever survived it."_

Christine was disgusted at how the world could be so cruel to her Angel. More tears escaped her as she continued to listen.

"_On one particular night, a group of ballet rats came to see me. As usual, they all laughed, pointed, screamed, and threw rotten food at me. I glanced up at the crowd as the gypsy kicked me and I noticed a small blonde girl gripping the bars of my cage, sorrow in her eyes. I never felt so ashamed. Looking into her eyes, something inside me snapped."_

"_As the crowd made their way out of the tent and the gypsy began to pick up the coins from the floor, I grabbed the whip and wrapped it around his neck. I was so enraged. I hadn't noticed the blonde girl pulling at my arm. She yelled at me, telling me the gypsy was dead. She pleaded with me to hear her. I finally loosened my grip as she opened the cage and dragged me behind her. I didn't know where she was leading me. All I could hear were screams and dogs barking. She told me the Gendarmes would be looking for me for murdering that gypsy."_

"It w-wasn't your f-fault, Erik. It was self d-defense!" Christine sobbed brokenly.

"Shhhh. No words, mon amour. Please just listen." Erik kissed the top of her head then continued.

"_We came to the side of a building. She opened a small window and told me to go in and hide. I couldn't believe that she was helping me. After everything she had seen, she saved me. She met me the next day where she had left me. She told me I was inside the Opera Populaire and that we were sitting in its Chapel. She told me there was a secret door behind the mural of the Angel and that I should go down into the cellars away from the cruelties of the world. I asked for her name, which you know is Annette Giry. I told her my name was Erik and that I never knew my last name. She told me to not waste anymore time and to hurry down into the cellars. I asked if she would forget about me __down there_ _and not come to see me. She kissed my forehead and told me she'd never abandon me. She had promised and I believed her." _

"_She took care of me all these years, bringing me food and furnishings that had been discarded by the opera. She would come down and read to me, always leaving the books behind. I absorbed everything from those books, requesting she bring me all types of text. I was drawn to music the most. I learned to compose and play instruments on my own. I also loved to draw. I found comfort in sketching and designing all sorts of things."_

"_Taking on the persona of the Opera Ghost was my doing. I needed money to buy the things I required down here. The leftovers the opera had provided me were no longer enough. It was rather easy convincing the managers and everyone else that the Opera Populaire was indeed haunted. The ballet rats helped me with their gossiping, unbeknownst to them. I also staged a few mishaps to take place every now and then to complete the illusion. I never hurt anyone, well, until recently, but in those earlier times, I told Annette I would never hurt anyone with my 'foolishness,' as she called it."_

"_She was my protector of sorts. She was the only one allowed to send me my salary every month and always made sure that Box 5 was always free for me to enjoy the performances. She never approved of my choice of employment, but she knew that there was no other way for me to earn a paying salary. She had no choice but to aid me."_

"I owe Annette my life. As long as I live, I will never be able to repay her for the kindness and compassion she has shown towards me."

Erik's tears were flowing freely now as Christine caressed his uncovered cheek. She placed kisses all over his face and told him repeatedly how much she loved him.

Exhausted, Erik let his tears drown him to sleep as Christine comforted him.

* * *

**Author's Note x2**  
To: Pertie, PhantomLover05, PrinceDiamondLuver, and Twinkle22, this one's for you! Thanks for the fab reviews from my regular readers as well. Everyone has been kind to me. Thank You All! -big hugs- 


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

The carriage came to a halt in front of the hospital, waking Raoul, who had dozed off during the trip. He rubbed at his eyes then reached into his pocket for his timepiece. Looking down at the pocket-watch in his hand, he smiled. _"Right on time,"_ he thought as he deposited the watch back into its place.

"We've arrived, Monsieur Vicomte." Francois held the door to the carriage open, as Raoul stepped out.

He made his way to the front desk and asked the nurse if he could speak with Dr. Necosi.

"Let me check for you, Monsieur," the nurse suggested.

She went down the hall to the doctor's office door, knocked, and opened the door slightly. "Dr. Necosi, le Vicomte de Chagny is here to speak with you about Mademoiselle Giry's release."

Dr. Necosi waved his hand to her as he finished writing in Meg's patient file. "Thank you, Marie. Please send him in."

Raoul watched as the nurse approached him.

"He is free to speak with you, Monsieur Vicomte. He awaits your presence in his office," she confirmed.

Raoul bowed and she smiled at him as he made his way down the hall.

"Dr. Necosi," Raoul announced as he entered, extending a handshake to the doctor.

Dr. Necosi stood up from his desk chair, reaching to oblige the Vicomte. "Ah, Monsieur Vicomte. Good to see you again! Please, have a seat," he gestured.

Raoul smiled, "Merci."

"A nurse is with Mademoiselle Giry now, preparing her for her departure. I was just finishing up her chart before you arrived. She will be given medication to take only if needed, if at all. The injury to her head was not as bad as we had come to believe and she's a strong, healthy young lady. I do suggest she keep off her feet for long periods of time, at least for the next week. Do you think that will be a problem, Monsieur Vicomte?" the doctor asked.

"Not at all, Dr. Necosi. Her mother is her ballet teacher, so it shouldn't be a problem. I'll see to it that she gets plenty of rest." Raoul answered.

"Very good then!" The doctor stood up from his chair and made his way to the young Vicomte as Raoul stood up from his chair. The doctor patted his back. "Come. Let's not keep Mademoiselle Giry waiting. I'll see the both of you out along with her release papers." Dr. Necosi held open his office door and motioned for Raoul to exit.

Meg sat on the side of her bed with a small bag of her belongings in her lap. She was dressed and ready to go home. She waited in anxiety. _"Any moment he will be coming through that door,"_ she thought to herself and continued, _"I'm so silly. I shouldn't be acting this way. Raoul is a friend…"_ she trailed on this thought and added, _"but a very handsome one!"_ Her cheeks flushed a slight pink as she smiled.

Just then, the door opened and Dr. Necosi came in.

Her smile almost faded until she noticed a well-dressed Raoul coming in behind the doctor.

"Mademoiselle Giry! I see you are ready to go home," the doctor stated.

Raoul walked over to Meg and she offered him her hand. He kissed it and smiled up at her. "Shall we go, Mademoiselle?"

Meg got up from the bed and answered Raoul with excitement. "Oui, Monsieur! I am quite ready!" Her face beamed at Raoul and then she turned in the doctor's direction. "Oh, forgive me, Dr. Necosi. I just wish to sleep in my own bed," she grinned.

"I understand, Mademoiselle," the doctor replied nonchalantly. "Please see to it that Madame Giry gets these, Monsieur." The doctor held out Meg's release forms.

"Certainly," Raoul replied, taking the forms.

The three of them walked out of the hospital room and down the hall. Opening the front door, they were greeted by Madame Giry.

Sensing the tension, the doctor politely excused himself. "My apologies, but I must get back to my rounds now." Dr. Necosi bowed and calmly made his way back to his office.

"Oh, Maman! I forgot to send word to you that Ra- umm Monsieur Vicomte was escorting me home." Meg was embarrassed. She had been caught up in her daydreaming of the handsome Vicomte that it completely slipped her mind.

Raoul tried to recover, "Please, Madame. I apologize. I should have sent a messenger to you on Meg's behalf." He took Madame Giry's hand and kissed it.

"Do not feel the need to take responsibility for my daughter's actions, Monsieur Vicomte. She is very capable of sending word to me on her own." Madame Giry glanced at her daughter in disappointment. "Come, Megan. We're going home." She reached for her daughter's arm as Meg frowned.

Knowing that there was no way to win, Raoul gestured, "S'il vous plaît, Madame, Mademoiselle. Allow me to offer my carriage. It's the least I can do."

Meg looked at her mother with tender eyes.

Hesitantly, Madame Giry accepted. "Merci, Monsieur Vicomte," she said curtly.

Raoul handed Meg's release forms to Madame Giry before addressing his driver. "Francois, take Madame and Mademoiselle Giry wherever they wish."

"And what of you, Monsieur Vicomte?" Francois asked confused.

"There is some business I can attend to, which is not too far from here. The walk will do me good, Francois. Don't worry. You can wait for me at the Café de Laine when you are done," Raoul finished.

"Very well then, Monsieur Vicomte." Francois opened the carriage door and offered his hand to Madame Giry as she stepped inside.

Meg looked at the carriage and then to Raoul. She caught him off guard as she embraced him tightly. "Thank you for everything, Raoul!" she spoke low enough for only him to hear.

"Will you still be able to come for dinner, little Meg?" He asked in a whisper.

"I'll try. I must fix this mess with Maman first. I'll send word if I'm able!" Meg gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek before releasing him and climbing into the carriage.

Raoul stood there watching, as the carriage made its way down the cobblestone street. He lifted his gloved hand to his right cheek. _"Well, I certainly was not expecting that!"_ He said to himself, surprised. He turned on his heel and proceeded down the street, toward his destination.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To all my regular readers who have been here since the beginning. Thanks so much for your continued support! I'm glad everyone is enjoying Raoul and Meg. It can be challenging for me at times, but these two really deserve each other. They're just both two sweet for their own good. -smiles- I wish to extend a special thanks to my two newest readers: Erik's Chris and DragonheartRAB. I'm so glad you two are enjoying my first fic. 


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Meg was fidgeting with her small bag of belongings as the carriage made its way down the street. She was bracing herself for her mother's words. She knew it was coming at any moment now.

"Really, Megan. Your behavior with le Vicomte can be quite unsettling," Madame Giry sighed.

Meg knew it was going be a long ride home. Her mother only used her full name when she was upset with her. She tried to reason with her mother. "Maman, he's nice. He helped me!"

"Oui. I'm glad for your sake child, but I am not sure I approve of these new circumstances. Megan, he is a Vicomte and you are just a ballerina. You and I do not fit in with their 'society,' child. I fear there will only be heartache for you. Do not forget that it has not been long since he parted from Christine." Madame Giry lovingly placed her arm around her daughter, as Meg settled her head on her mother's shoulder and sighed heavily.

"I know. I've not forgotten, but I enjoy his company. I consider him a friend now, Maman."

"You also find him attractive, Megan. That could cause problems," Madame Giry pointed out.

Meg colored at her mother's truthful words. "I do find him handsome, but that can't be helped, can it? It's the truth."

"Non. He is not unattractive, but child, be aware of all I have told you. I only tell you these things because I love you." She placed a kiss on top of her daughter's head.

Feeling that the storm had calmed somewhat, Meg looked up at her mother and said, "He asked me to dine with him tonight, Maman. Please, may I go?" She braced herself waiting for the answer.

Madame Giry took a deep breath and exhaled. "I still do not approve of this whole thing Meg, but you are a young woman now and I must allow you to decide on your own."

"Merci, Maman! I won't disappoint you. I won't be out late. I promise!" Meg kissed her mother's cheek and hugged her.

At her daughter's enthusiasm, Madame Giry prayed that everything would be all right.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the Giry residence. Francois opened the door to the carriage and once again offered his hand. "Watch your step, Madame."

"Merci, Francois," Madame Giry said.

"Careful, Mademoiselle," Francois held onto Meg's tiny hand. "Let me help you with your bag." Francois gestured at the small bag Meg was carrying.

"Mes merci, Monsieur." Meg curtsied.

As they entered the small flat, Madame Giry offered Francois some tea, but he had refused. He placed the small bag onto a table in the corner where Meg had pointed. He bowed to the Giry women and made to leave, but was caught on the arm by Meg.

"S'il vous plaît, Monsieur. Could you send word to le Vicomte for me?"

"But of course, Mademoiselle!" Francois smiled at her.

"Do let him know that I will be able to dine with him this evening after all," Meg beamed.

"Tres bon, Mademoiselle Giry! Will that be all?" Francois asked bowing to her.

"Oui, Monsieur," Meg replied.

Francois took her hand, kissed it and headed for the door.

Meg walked him to the door and waved to him as he drove off. She closed the door and leaned against it. _"Mon dieu, what will I wear tonight?"_ she thought. As quickly as she could, heeding the doctor's words, she made her way down the hall to her bedroom.

Moments later, Madame Giry knocked on her daughter's door, "Meg? Are you sleeping, chéri?"

"Come in, Maman." Meg called to her mother.

Madame Giry entered the room and sat in a small chair by the window, as she watched her daughter going through her dresses. "The purple one," Madame Giry said simply.

"You think so? I was thinking of the red," Meg pondered.

Madame Giry took in a breath and sighed. Of all the colors, purple was always the best color on her daughter. The color against her eyes changed them from blue, to many different shades of beautiful colors, depending on her surroundings.

"I know so, chéri," Madame Giry smiled.

It was enough for Meg to decide on the purple dress for the evening.

"Come talk to me a moment, Meg." Madame Giry motioned for Meg to sit in the chair next to hers.

Meg sat down and placed her left hand on her mother's lap. "What is it Maman? Is something wrong?"

Madame Giry patted her daughter's hand. "Non. I just wished for you to tell me the rest of the details from you adventures in Erik's home."

Meg looked at her mother in confusion. "Erik? Is that the name of le fantôme?"

"Oui, chéri. He is but a man, not a ghost." Madame Giry laughed slightly at her daughter's look.

Meg always had a healthy appetite for gossip, revolving around the Opera Ghost. She wondered what tales her daughter would tell now, knowing that he was not some spooky apparition after all.

"Well, what did you want to know, Maman? Meg questioned.

"Start from when you first arrived down there. That should be sufficient." Madame Giry tucked a stray golden lock behind her daughter's ear.

Meg leaned against the chair and proceeded to tell her mother what she requested to know.

"_I got there before the mob, but just barely. I looked around hoping to find Christine and any sign of the gho- umm Erik. I came to a room that had a beautiful bed shaped in a swan. By the floor, there was a tiny monkey sitting on a box. That's when I saw the mask. I picked it up and still had it in my hands when I came across Christine. She was desperate to find Erik. I tried to ask her where Raoul was, but she was in such a panic to find Erik. She told me she would explain, once she was settled."_

I do hope she is fine, Maman." Meg had a somber look on her face as she thought of her dear friend Christine.

"She is fine, Meg. Do not worry yourself. Now, please, continue." Madame Giry assured her daughter.

Hopeful at the thought of her mother's words, Meg continued.

"_I told Christine all I found was le fantôme's mask, and she almost broke down in complete despair. Sparkling light caught my eye, as I noticed all the shattered glass from the mirrors. One of the mirrors was different from the rest. It looked to have a passage. I told Christine that maybe he was in there. So, she ran in. I made sure to cover the passage with a heavy drape, just before the angry mob came."_

"_I tried to tell them the Opera Ghost was no more, but there was so much yelling, I could not be heard. I was pushed aside and that's how I cut my head, on the organ. My vision became blurred slightly, but then I felt gentle arms around me. I don't know where Raoul came from, but thankfully he was there. I begged for him to do something about all these angry people. I was afraid for Christine, if they would find her with Erik. Raoul was fearful for my safety and Christine's, but not for Erik's…obviously. He said he had an idea, and fired his pistol to get the mobs attention. He told them all to go. He said he shot the Phantom in the head and kicked his body into the lake. The angry mob wanted proof, naturally. That's when Raoul threw the mask I had found at them. His hands were soaked with my blood, so he made sure to cover the mask with it. Someone asked about Christine, and Raoul said he sent her above ground, so she would not have to witness le fantôme's execution. Then they all left." _

"They believed him, Maman. His words saved us all, even Erik, as much as he won't admit it." Meg stood up and walked over to her bed to stretch.

Madame Giry couldn't believe it. The Vicomte had acted so heroically. She never would have thought of an outcome such as this, especially from Raoul. _"I guess I underestimated him,"_ Madame Giry thought in amazement. She stood up and walked over to Meg, whose eyes were slowly drifting. "Get some rest." She kissed the top of her forehead and continued, "You'll need it for tonight." She walked to the door and took one more look at her sleeping child. She blew a kiss across the room and whispered, "Welcome home, mon chéri…"


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

After going over a few contracts with one of his business associates, Raoul made his way to the Café de Laine. He sat at a table outside reading the latest newspaper as he sipped his tea and enjoyed a fresh croissant. The Opera Populaire fire was on the front cover, which caught his eye, along with the bold print at the very bottom, **_"Le Fantôme est mort!" _**

"Dead indeed," Raoul snorted. He began to scan the paper and couldn't believe the claims printed within.

"**_The Phantom of the Opera died at the hands of le Vicomte Raoul de Chagny……… Fire damage repairable……… Reconstruction to be funded by Messieurs Andre and Firmin……… Comte Philippe de Chagny rumored to take the role as Patron for le Vicomte……… Mademoiselle Megan Giry found in the arms of the young Vicomte……… A distraught Mademoiselle Christine Daae calls off engagement………"_**

Raoul put the paper down and sighed heavily. _"Where do these people get their information?"_ He was finishing his tea as he saw Francois pulling up. Raoul stood up and addressed his driver. "Did the Giry's get home alright, Francois?"

"Oui, Monsieur Vicomte. I also bring you news that Mademoiselle Giry will be able to dine with you this evening."

"Well, Francois," Raoul patted his back and continued, "_that_ is news I am actually pleased with today! Let's go home Francois."

On the journey home, Raoul couldn't help but think back on the newspaper claims, and then of Christine. He prayed that Christine was safe. Then he thought of tonight's dinner with Meg. He wondered how he could go from one thought to another and not become a complete wreck. His parents raised him to be intellectual and mannered. There were many times he cried easily. In his younger years, his brother Philippe had fought many times on his behalf at school, due to the teasing. Then came the Navy. He went from being a boy to becoming man. Navy life had taught him to be calculating, strong-willed, and driven. _"This is why I'm not acting a fool and blubbering in some corner,"_ he confirmed. _"Still, it seems quite odd behavior not to be, considering the circumstances…"_ Raoul's thoughts trailed off as the carriage came to a stop.

* * *

"You look very lovely, chéri." Madame Giry walked over to her daughter and placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders. 

"Merci, Maman." Meg smiled at her mother's reflection in the mirror.

"I have something for you, Meg." Madame Giry reached into her dress pocket. "This was my mother's necklace and her mothers before her and I thought it was time to pass it on to you." Madame Giry held out a beautiful strand of pink pearls. Tiny diamonds joined between each pearl, complimented the piece.

"It's beautiful! Will you put it on for me?" Meg lifted her tresses above her neckline as her mother secured the delicate bauble around her daughter's neck. Meg touched the heirloom with her left hand and a tear escaped her. "I'll treasure this always, Maman," Meg said as she reflected on her image in the mirror.

Madame Giry kissed the top of Meg's head and left for the kitchen, to attend to her own dinner.

* * *

Francois drove Meg to the Chagny estate for her dinner date with le Vicomte. She walked up to the front door where she was greeted by the butler, Jacques. 

"Mademoiselle Giry, I presume?" Jacques reached for her hand and placed a kiss upon it. "Le Vicomte is in the garden. Shall we?" Jacques offered Meg his arm.

"Oui, that would be splendid," Meg finished with a smile as she took Jacques arm.

The Chagny estate was vast--marbled floors as far as the eye could see, staircases made of forged steel, artworks depicting scenes that varied to compliment each room, and beamed ceilings in polished oak. There was so much to take in. _"The Nobles live such extravagant lifestyles,"_ Meg thought in awe.

Jacques led Meg to the back of the estate and pointed over to Raoul who was seated by the side of a fountain, which was the centerpiece of the garden. "I'll see about dinner, Mademoiselle." Jacques bowed and headed for the kitchen.

As Meg descended down the steps and onto the pathway leading to the fountain, Raoul shifted his attention from the rippling of the water to Meg. She was a vision in purple. Her silken hair was being kissed by the night's breeze, as she walked. The modest cut of her dress showcased tiny sparkles from her necklace, like stars against the midnight sky. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, and her smile was so warm, it would lift anyone's spirits. He stood up as she made her way to him and he reached for her hand and kissed it.

"You look very lovely tonight, little Meg," Raoul said as he eyed her from head to toe.

"Merci, Raoul," she blushed.

"S'il vous plait, sit with me, Meg. Dinner should be ready shortly." Raoul requested as he sat back down before the fountain.

Meg sat next to him as they watched the water cascade down into giant shells carved of stone. At the top was a mermaid that Raoul gazed at adoringly. "My mother loved the sea. She would always tell me stories of the Merpeople that lived far below the ocean floor. I joined the Navy hoping to catch a glimpse of these mysterious beauties, as strange as that may seem." Raoul sighed and reflected back to his childhood, "We spent many summers at our holiday home by the sea."

"That's where you first met Christine, no?" Meg asked casually.

"Yes, Meg. I saw a girl screaming at the ocean and there was something red being picked up by the waves. She was crying and I didn't think twice before I ran into the ocean to get that red thing for her. It was a scarf her father had given to her that belonged to her mother. It was the only thing of her mothers that she had, so I was glad I was able to help her."

Meg listened and occasionally caressed his hand as he lost himself to the story.

"After that day, we spent plenty of time together. I would tell her dark stories of the North and she would tell me tales of Little Lotte and her Angel of Music." Raoul's eyes glistened and as he blinked a couple of tears fell. "She always believed that one day she would be visited by an Angel of Music. Her father had promised her he would send this Angel to her after he had passed." Raoul took a deep breath and as he exhaled he could no longer contain his tearful emotions. "Meg, he was there for her, when I should have been. Even knowing now that he is a man, she idolizes him still as an Angel. Christine loves him as much as he loves her. Why couldn't she love me as before, Meg? Why can she not love me like she loves him? Why couldn't she just love me?" His sobs silenced his words as he held his head down and his body shuddered. It was all coming to him now, like a ton of bricks falling down upon him.

Meg threw her arms around Raoul and hugged him fiercely. He welcomed her embrace and wept his ocean of tears upon her shoulder as she comforted him. Not wanting to cause him anymore pain, Meg replied softly, "She does love you Raoul, but she was always _in _love with her Angel, even before she met you by the sea." Meg placed her hands on the sides of Raoul's shoulders so they could meet eye to eye. "None of this is your fault. You should not bottle up your feelings. It will take time, Raoul, but one day, you will have the love that you want and that love returned to you." Meg brushed the tears from his face and said, "You will always have me, Raoul. Remember that. After all, we are friends now, no?"

Raoul sniffled and smiled slightly as he traced Meg's cheek with the back of his right hand. "Yes, we are friends, little Meg. I apologize for my sudden outburst. You shouldn't have been here to witness my tears. We are supposed to be dining and having a good time." He stood up, trying to regain his composure, and held his hands out to her. "Come, let us dine and leave my foolishness behind us."

As Meg took his hands she said, "I am glad I was able to be here for you, mon ami. Your actions were not foolish. You were only being human."

The wisdom Meg possessed at that moment was remarkable. Raoul was truly thankful for her presence this evening.

Dinner was exquisite. They exchanged stories of their childhood, as well as his time in the Navy and her days at the opera house. They had laughed and enjoyed each other's company so much that Meg completely lost track of time.

"Mon dieu, it's late! Maman will be upset with me! I really must be going, Raoul."

"Let me drive you home. It's the least I can do for keeping you longer than intended and I'm sure Francois will not mind," Raoul chuckled at his last admission.

"Very well, but please, we must make haste. I don't know if Maman will ever forgive me for this," Meg cursed.

* * *

Raoul had made good time getting Meg home. He walked her to the front of her doorstep and thanked her for a wonderful evening. 

"Your presence tonight was an honor, little Meg."

"We should do this again sometime, that is, if I am not sent off to a nunnery after this evening," Meg winked at Raoul.

"Little Meg, do not think such thoughts, but if it should happen, then I'll feel it's my duty to rescue you from such a dreary place," Raoul said, playfully pushing out his chest.

Meg's contagious giggle had him laughing alongside her. As their laughter died, they stared at one another. A light came on from inside the house and snapped them both out of their gazes. Raoul placed a chaste kiss on Meg's hand as she motioned for him to hurry off. They exchanged quick goodbyes and then he made a mad dash for the carriage. She waved at him and then let herself into the house.

"Megan Giry…" Madame Giry said sternly.

Meg froze dead in her tracks as she tried to creep down the hall to her bedroom. She turned around slowly and proceeded to babble, "I didn't mean to wake you, Maman. I know it's late. I was having so much fun, I lost track of time and…."

The sound of her mother's cane meeting the floor silenced her.

"I'm glad to hear you enjoyed yourself. You should go to your room now and think about what you've done and not make this a habit, should I allow you out again in the future," Madame Giry finalized. "Now, go!" she said simultaneously as her cane hit the floor again.

Meg flinched and shuffled down the hall, disappearing into her bedroom. Once out of sight, Madame Giry smiled and let out a laugh she had been holding in the entire time.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To: Lady Winifred and sparklingdmnd, this Chapter I dedicate to you both. Thanks for the reviews! And to my loyal readers, thanks for the continued support! –big hugs- The next Chapter (with Erik) belongs to you all! -smiles- 


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Erik had a dreamless night. It was no surprise to him, due to his utter exhaustion from recollecting his painful childhood for Christine. He watched her in her sleep. She was so beautiful. She had her arm resting upon his chest and her legs were tangled within his. Her hair fell across her shoulder softly. Being beside her like this was so calming to him. He wished to stay like this forever, but he knew there were matters to attend to today. He brought her hand, which rested on his chest, up to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

Christine stirred and slowly opened her eyes. She yawned slightly and looked up at him. "Is it time to get up already, Angel?"

"Oui, mon ange. As much as I'd love to spend the entire day here with you," he touched the tip of her nose lovingly, "there is much to be done and we must not delay." He propped himself up on his elbows and continued, "Nadir should be here soon. I'll need to go over several details with him before the two of you head out for the day."

Christine stretched out and then suddenly rolled on top of him, catching him off guard. "What if I wish to keep you here, Monsieur?" She finished with a mischievous smile.

Erik grabbed the side of her arms, rolling her onto her back and pinning her underneath him. He growled seductively and said, "You play with fire, Christine. I fear you do not know what you ask for, my dear."

He bent his head down to her neck and nuzzled the hollow curve of it hungrily. She let out a small moan that made his heart race. He kissed along her neck, making his way up to her lips. As their tongues met, he pushed his body against her more firmly.

Christine ran her hands against the back of his neck and slowly down his back as she unconsciously wrapped her legs around his waist.

Erik was in a haze. His mind became lightheaded. He didn't know how much restraint he had left, but he had to do something before he could no longer stop himself. He reached for Christine's hands and pinned them above her head as he broke their frenzied kiss. "You are quite the temptress, Mademoiselle, but we'll have to continue our passion-play another time." He kissed her chastely on the lips then swiftly moved off the bed and landed on his feet. "Mademoiselle…" he gestured with his hand, bowing, and exited the room.

Christine crossed her arms and pouted, as she lay there alone with thoughts of her Angel.

* * *

After his bath and changing into more suitable attire, Erik readied some tea and sweet biscuits for Nadir's arrival. He gathered some documents from his bedroom and brought them to a corner he referred to as his study. 

As he sat looking over the papers, Nadir announced his presence. "You have become rather _domestic_ since our times in Persia, my boy… tea and biscuits? Are we to have a tea party, Erik?" Nadir said humorously.

"It's a bit _early_ for your sarcasm, is it not, Daroga?" Erik glared at Nadir.

"Yes, perhaps I shall save it up for later," Nadir said as he seated himself and poured a cup of tea.

Erik smirked at Nadir then proceeded, "Let's get down to business, shall we? I have very little funds on the premises, so you will need to meet with my financial advisor, Monsieur Reinard, who has been entrusted to secure a larger amount of my financial holdings. I've sent him word and he will be expecting you. He shall be at your disposal for anything you will need to secure a home for Christine and I. There will be no mistaking your identity and purpose with these," Erik handed Nadir several documents.

Nadir was intrigued at what he now held in his possession. "Erik, this is…"

"My Last Will and Testament, which I revised. I trust you will keep it safe and make sure it arrives in the hands of Monsieur Reinard, will you not, Daroga?" Erik raised a questioning eyebrow to his foreign brother.

"If I didn't know any better, Erik, I would think this meant you actually _liked _me," Nadir jested, but continued with a serious tone, "but my boy, I am honored that you entrust me with this," Nadir patted at the documents that now lay on his lap.

Reconsidering a retort back at Nadir, Erik finished his tea, stood from his chair, and placed his hand on Nadir's shoulder. "Everything is in order then. I'll see if Christine is ready."

With that, he left Nadir and headed for Christine's bedroom.

* * *

"Christine, are you…" Erik swallowed his words as he viewed his Angel on the swan bed, asleep. He would never grow tired of these moments he could watch her in complete peace. He quietly made his way to her. Ghosting his hand along the side of her cheek he whispered, "Awake from your slumber my sleeping beauty, for your prince calls to you. With this kiss, I summon thee…" Erik placed an enchanting kiss to her lips to bring her from her dreams. 

Christine's eyes fluttered open. "Mon dieu, I didn't mean to fall asleep again."

Erik ran his fingers through her curls and smiled at her. "Nadir is here and awaits your presence, mon ange."

"Please send him my apologies, Erik. I'll just freshen up. I won't be long." Christine got up from the swan bed and made her way to the bathroom.

"As you wish, princess," Erik said obediently.

* * *

Erik handed Nadir a small envelope with his trademark seal, "Daroga, please have a messenger deliver this to Madame Giry." 

Nadir took the envelope and then stepped into the boat.

Erik reached for Christine's hand and placed a kiss upon it, then helped her into the boat.

"You _will_ inform me if our dear Daroga displays any aberrant behavior, will you not, mon amour?" Erik said conspiratorially.

"Oh Erik! What am I going to do with you?" Christine said as she slapped him on the arm.

Erik sneered at Nadir then replied to Christine, "Anything you wish, mon ange. I am yours to do with as you please," he finished with a wink.

"We should go_ now_, for I fear my breakfast will revisit me in a most unsavory way," Nadir said with a dramatic air.

As Nadir pushed the boat back away from the banks of the lair, Erik mocked, "Daroga, I do believe _that_ image would only be an improvement over your normal disposition!" Erik grinned, and turned away triumphantly.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

Madame Giry finished putting breakfast together and placed everything upon the kitchen table. "Meg! Breakfast is ready, child," Madame Giry called down the hall.

Meg made her way to the kitchen sluggishly, tired from last night's rendezvous with Raoul. She yawned and took a seat across from her mother, rubbing at her eyes in hopes to fight of her sleep.

"Do you need your medication, chéri?" Madame Giry inquired.

"Non, I am fine, just tired," Meg answered and she began to butter her toast. "Maman? Yesterday, you were going to tell me of Christine? Has she contacted you?"

Madame Giry sipped her tea and replied, "Non, I found her in his home, with him. They are safe."

"That's wonderful news! I was so worried about Christine, but what will become of her now that she is with Erik?" Meg awaited her mother's response, as if she knew all the secrets of the world.

"They wish to live above ground, on the outskirts of Paris and then Erik will help rebuild the opera house," Madame Giry said knowingly.

Meg was puzzled at her mother's latter statement. "Maman? How will Erik help rebuild the opera house if he is supposed to be dead? It is not hard to mistake his appearance, no? If he is seen, then he will become a wanted man again. All of Paris will be after him."

Madame Giry was aware of Meg's concerns, as she passed a small plate of sliced apples to her daughter. "I do not think he would be so bold as to undertake the project directly, but he will be involved one way or another, chéri. Of that, I am certain."

They finished breakfast and adjourned to the sitting room.

* * *

Madame Giry sat, stitching a scarf for Meg, as her daughter was reclined with a book, on the settee across the room. There was a rap at the front door and Meg made to get up, but her mother motioned for her to remain seated. 

Madame Giry opened the door and was greeted by a messenger. They exchanged pleasantries as she accepted the young man's delivery, then he turned and was on his way again. Madame Giry eyed the envelope as she shut the door behind her. _"His seal,"_ she noted.

She sat once again at her chair as she carefully pried the wax. Inside, two notes were found. One addressed to herself and the other to Meg. She glanced up at her daughter, who was engrossed in her novel.

Madame Giry decided to read her note first, since Meg was otherwise occupied at the moment.

_**Annette,**_

_**I humbly request your presence so that we may discuss what you have come to know. I trust Megan has undoubtedly told you everything by now and I desire to know of these details, Madame. I will be expecting you, should you be inclined to accept my invitation. **_

_**-Erik**_

_**P.S. Christine has written a separate letter for Meg, which I am sure you have noticed, enclosed within. **_

Madame Giry always wondered if Erik had the gift to foresee things before anyone else. His keen sense of his surroundings were astounding, to say the least, and it never ceased to amaze her. She placed her note in her pocket and got up from her chair to give Meg her letter from Christine.

"A letter from Christine, chéri." Madame Giry held the letter out to her daughter.

Meg's eyes lit up as she dropped her book. "Really?" she asked excitedly as she accepted her mothers offering. She noticed Christine's handwriting immediately and couldn't wait to see what the contents would reveal.

Meg leaned against the back of the settee and began to read.

_**Dearest Meg,**_

_**I promised I would send word to you as soon as I could, so I hope this letter finds you well. Your mother tells me you were in the hospital from receiving an injury at the hands of the mob. I was upset to hear of this. I do pray you get better soon. It seems I need to thank Raoul someday for going back and inadvertently being able to help you. Yes, Meg, your mother mentioned this to me. Though I wondered why he would go back, I have to thank God that he did for your sake. I would not have been able to live with myself if anything had happened to you. I will always love you as a sister, Meg.**_

**_Now, let me tell you of my Angel of Music. Oh, Meg, we are so much in love! I know you may not understand right now and I can hardly believe it myself, but it is true. I only wish I had not hurt Raoul. I did not mean to and you must think me dreadful. I really thought I was in love with him. It is unfortunate that things had to get so out of hand before I realized who I have always been in love with. I am blessed that Raoul loved me enough to let me go. I pray that he can forgive me someday and that_ _he finds someone to love him unconditionally. I guess that is a lot for me to ask right now, but I could hope._**

_**Today I am going to look for a home for Erik and I. Did I tell you my Angel's name is Erik? He is a man, after all. I guess you will have to find new tales to tell now, but knowing you, I am sure that will be an easy task. **_

_**I really miss your company, Meg, and I cannot wait to see you again! Once Erik and I move into our home, perhaps you and I could go shopping or indulge in our obsession for sweets at Beauvais's Bakery.**_

_**I look forward to hearing from you, dearest Meg!**_

_**With Love,  
Christine **_

Meg could hardly believe what she read. She missed Christine and was excited to know she was doing well and appeared to be happy. Meg realized she would have to get used to Christine and The Phantom together. With that thought, it made her think of Raoul and she felt so sorry for him.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To: MelancholyEcho, glad you are enjoying my first fic. Thanks for the review and enjoy! This one is dedicated to you. As always, to my regular readers, you all rock! Thanks for sticking around and giving me such supportive feedback. -smiles- 


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

Christine sat inside the carriage as Nadir walked into the bank. He told her he wouldn't be long. She watched as Parisians went about their day along the bustling street. A jewelry store caught her eye and she decided she would have a quick look. She let the driver know where she would be in case Nadir would come back before her.

* * *

"Monsieur Reinard is expecting me," Nadir assured the clerk at the front desk.

"Go down the hall and make a right. His office is the last door to your left," the clerk directed.

Nadir knocked on Monsieur Reinard's office door and waited for a response.

"Entrer," Monsieur Reinard beckoned.

He noticed the Persian immediately as he came through the door. "Ah, Nadir is it? I've been expecting you. Of course there's a technical matter we need to observe in…" Monsieur Reinard was handed the documents Nadir held in his hand before he was able to finish his sentence.

"Very good! And I see you share in your friend's impetuous nature," he added with a chuckle. "Well, let me return the sentiment and make this as swift as possible. All you will need to do upon choosing a home will be to bring me all the paperwork and I will take care of the rest. As for miscellaneous purchases, you are to send the bills to me and they will be taken care of as well. Finally, Monsieur Erik wishes you to bring this to him, since his funds on his person have been lacking." Monsieur Reinard placed a packaged bundle into Nadir's outstretched hand. "His usual amount of 200,000 francs."

Nadir practically dropped his jaw at what he now held in his hand. _"Erik's occupation as the Opera Ghost has obviously been quite rewarding, financially,"_ Nadir thought to himself in awe.

Monsieur Reinard shivered as he addressed Nadir. "Do see to it that Erik receives his funds, or I fear we will both be skinned alive!"

"Do not despair, Monsieur Reinard, he will get it," Nadir assured then finished silently in his mind, _"amongst other things…" _

He bid Monsieur Reinard farewell and left with a giant grin from ear to ear. He couldn't wait to get back at Erik later.

* * *

Christine stopped in front of the windowed display, and eyed the various pieces, like a child at a sweet shop. Hypnotized by the sparkling vision before her, she hadn't realized she was being watched from behind. 

"_So_, Mademoiselle Daae, you go about town casually, after breaking my dear brother's heart?" The voice said irritably.

Christine stiffened at the tone of his voice. There was no mistaking who it belonged to. She turned her gaze to the man who had unexpectedly addressed her.

The Comte Philippe de Chagny looked upon her in a disgusted manner. "A lowly commoner could not afford such luxuries as _those_, Mademoiselle," Philippe pointed at the jewels Christine was entranced by a moment ago.

"I do _not_ appreciate your audaciousness, Monsieur! You should not speak of what you do not know!" Christine said sharply.

Philippe was flabbergasted at what he heard. He retaliated, "But I _do _know, Mademoiselle... very well, in fact. _You_ are but a dancing girl at the opera. You had a few moments on stage filling in for La Carlotta, at which time you cast your poisonous charms upon my unsuspecting brother, while you carried on like a _whore_ with that madman! _You_ are not capable of real love! _You_ only cause pain! It's a good thing Raoul didn't end up with you, not that _I _wouldn't have prevented it, but _obviously _your involvement with my brother was due to his status and considerable family fortune. You probably thought you could swindle his riches for yourself and your _lover_, the spawn of the _devil_ himself!"

Suddenly, Christine slapped Philippe so hard, the corner of his mouth started to bleed. She ran back to the carriage and wept at all the harsh accusations Philippe had colorfully narrated for her.

Philippe stood there awhile as he dabbed at the corner of his lip with his handkerchief. He noticed an oddly dressed fellow exit the bank and then he entered the carriage that Christine had disappeared into. As the carriage rode off, Philippe couldn't help but be suspicious.

* * *

Christine never bothered telling Nadir what had taken place while he was inside the bank conducting business. She was ashamed. Even if the statements were not true, they still upset her.

They traveled to several towns outside of Paris looking for a home to purchase. Each one had been fruitless in their efforts. Christine just didn't have the heart for it after the events that occurred earlier in the day.

"It will be alright, Christine. There are other towns we have yet to check. You are not expected to pick something today," Nadir reassured her.

"I really wanted to surprise Erik today though. He'll be disappointed knowing I didn't find us a home," she sighed.

"Do not say such things, Christine. I've known Erik for many years now and have never seen him act the way he does when he is with you. His love for you goes beyond reason. You could never do anything wrong in his eyes, least of all disappoint him. Let us head back and see what tomorrow brings."

On the way back into Paris, Nadir wondered what had happened to Christine to change her disposition from her cheerfulness of the morning, to this current pessimistic state.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

Erik sat in his study reading "The Clockmaker Who Lost His Soul" by Jules Verne. He had become quite enamored with Verne's literary work over the years. He was amazed at how this author's mind was so ahead of his time. However, this latest book that Erik found himself immersed in had nothing to do with the usual futuristic undertones. This was a tale of a man who was dying and all of the timepieces that he had made began failing as if his soul had become entwined in his crafted works. When only one functioning timepiece remains, there is only one way for him to gain possession of it, and that is to sacrifice his daughter in marriage to a man who works for the devil himself. The story, though not mimicking his own, did touch him deeply. It seemed to Erik that no one could ever escape the devil's path, even in books.

Madame Giry called out to Erik, as she came through the passageway from her room at the opera house.

Completely lost in his reading, he almost wasn't aware of Madame Giry's presence. "Annette? I am here, in the study." Erik placed the book back in its place and greeted his dear friend with a smile. "I am glad you decided to come," he said as he kissed her hand and asked her to make herself comfortable.

"You knew I would," Madame Giry replied as she took a seat next to him. She eyed him and suggested, "You need to eat more, Erik. You are getting thin again." She began running her fingers through his hair, checking the length. "It looks like you need a haircut as well, mon ami."

"You always treat me as a child, Annette. You are not that much older than I," he sighed then continued, "though, I do appreciate your caring." Erik's head was bowed as she finished handling his hair with her motherly touch.

Madame Giry looked into his eyes tenderly, "I will always feel the need to care for you, Erik. You are more than just my friend. You are like a brother to me."

Madame Giry always had words to make Erik feel normal, like any other person in the world. He didn't know what he would ever do without Annette in his life the way she had been.

"So what news do you have for me, Annette," Erik asked as he held onto her hands.

"Well, you already know that the people of Paris believe you to be dead at the hands of le Vicomte, but you will find the details amusing. I believe we have underestimated our young Raoul," Madame Giry told him, knowing what would follow.

"Underestimated him? That _BOY_? I know him all _too_ well, Madame!" Erik realized he was gripping Madame Giry's hands tightly and released them abruptly.

"You _think_ you know him, Monsieur? His disdain for you _is_ obvious, but regardless of the facts, he inadvertently saved you, Erik. We do not know why he turned back after Christine had left him to find you, but he did, and he rescued Meg from that terrible mob. He used your discarded mask as part of a ruse to distract the mob from pursuing you further. Using Meg's blood from her injury, he orchestrated the mask to serve as a visual purpose. He told the mob he shot you in the head and disposed of your body into the lake. He did not have to do that for you. Once Christine and Meg were safe, he could have exposed you immediately, but has not-- and honestly Erik, I feel he will not. He may not be a man _you_ can respect or trust with your loyalties, but he _is_ an honorable man. You cannot deny that."

"What would you have me do, Annette? You expect _me_ to thank him? "After all the _pain _he has caused me…" Erik trailed off in frustration.

Madame Giry placed her hand on Erik's shoulder consoling him. "Non, Erik. You just have to be willing to accept it. You must realize that _this_ has been an unexpected blessing for all concerned."

Erik thought about everything Madame Giry had just told him. He knew she was right, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Is there anything more you have to share with me, Annette?"

"That is all that concerns you, mon ami, but in my case, Meg and le Vicomte have grown close since the tragedy of that night and they have bonded a friendship."

"Annette, are you in need of my assistance? It would not be such a task for me to keep them apart, _if_ you wish it." Erik offered, referring to his uncanny skills of manipulation.

"Non, Monsieur. My daughter is old enough now to deal with her own affairs. Rest assured I will be keeping a watchful eye on her."

"In any case, should you need me, for _anything_, you know I will always be here for you." Erik reached out and placed a caring hand to her shoulder.

Madame Giry breathed easily as she looked up at him. "I know you will, Erik. I take great comfort in knowing that I can _always_ rely on you."

* * *

After Madame Giry left him, Erik spent the rest of the day continuing Verne's novel. As he was about to turn the page, he heard Nadir calling from across the lake. 

"Erik, we have returned!" Nadir called from the boat.

Christine disembarked and went straight to her bedroom.

Erik met Nadir and asked him how the day went. "It started off well enough, but after the visit with Monsieur Reinard, Christine's behavior was... _peculiar_." Nadir said with a concerned look.

"_Peculiar_? How so, Daroga? What happened to her?" Erik narrowed his eyes at Nadir.

"_That_, my boy, is the question. I do not know why her mood changed. We got to the bank and I told her to wait for me in the carriage. When I returned, she was somber. We went to several locations to view possible homes and none had interested her in the slightest. It was as if…" Nadir paused searching for the right words.

"As if _what_, Daroga? I am in _no_ mood for your games!" Erik said hastily.

"Well, as if her heart were not into it." Nadir said regrettably, but it was only his observation.

As Erik heard Nadir's confession, he grew rigid. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Nadir tried to ease the tension he saw building within his friend. "Erik, I am _not _insinuating anything. I was merely voicing my opinion. I have been _known_ to make mistakes."

"Where _is_ she, Daroga?" Erik demanded.

"Her bedroom," Nadir replied timidly as he turned from him and went to the kitchen to make some tea.

* * *

Erik didn't bother to knock as he burst through the door in a blind rage. "What's the _meaning_ of this, Christine?" He looked at her icily, as he advanced on her like a panther ready for the kill. "Have you _changed _your mind? Did you suddenly realize how _pitiful _and _hideous_ I am compared to your _precious_ Vicomte? " He was face to face with her now. Every muscle on the visible side of his face was solid with contempt. "I _know_ you have been thinking about him! Were you in here _planning_ your escape, Christine? You must take _great_ _pleasure_ in _destroying_ what little of a heart I have left!" He turned from her in one swift motion, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Are you _quite _finished?" Christine said to Erik's back, which he straightened even more at her tone. "Will this day of _anger_ and _harshness_ displayed towards me _ever_ come to an end? Philippe _must_ be right. I was not meant to _give_ or _receive _love. I only give _pain _and receive _torment_," she said in anguish.

"_Philippe?"_ Erik questioned to himself, suddenly confused.

"You _know_ how much I love you, yet you cannot _trust_ me, and therefore _I _cause you pain. I do not _want _to cause you pain, Angel. I _could_ go away to spare you, yet I _cannot _bring myself to leave. Either way I choose, I cannot win!" Christine fell to her knees and cried into her hands.

Erik cursed himself for letting his temper get the better of him. His mind was always assuming the worst-case scenarios. He couldn't believe his Angel thought such terrible things about herself. He wondered how she could ever think he'd be better off without her. _"It's ludicrous!"_ He wasn't sure how Philippe was involved with this, but he would find out.

He crouched beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Mon ange, do not cry. I was wrong to behave in such a horrendous manner. I beg your forgiveness, as I am new to matters of the heart. I fear it will take me some time to become accustomed to something I have never had the opportunity to experience. But I cannot allow you to believe that by leaving me, you spare me from some torture! This could not be further from the truth! By some miracle, you have loved me," he paused, his voice full of emotion, "and I would cease to live even a second without you, knowing what I have to lose now."

Christine looked at Erik with agonized eyes and threw her arms around him. She held him tightly as she let her sobs take hold of her.

Erik caressed her hair trying to ease his angel's overwhelming tide of tears and emotions. When he sensed Christine had calmed somewhat, he held her face between his hands gently, and asked, "When did you encounter le Comte, mon amour?"

Christine sniffled and told him what had occurred while Nadir had been in the bank. She described every detail just as she remembered it.

Erik was infuriated, but he kept his temper at bay deep within him. He'd deal with Philippe soon enough, but for now there were more pressing matters he would attend to.

* * *

Nadir poured some tea for Christine and Erik, hoping it would settle their nerves. The three of them sat in silence for a long while before Erik spoke. 

"Christine, how would you like to spend time with Meg tomorrow? I need to take care of a few things with Nadir, which will take most of the day. I would not want you to be alone down here, mon ange."

Christine's eyes lit up at the thought of visiting her dearest friend. "I would love to, Erik! Oh, but…" she paused before adding, "what about our home? I didn't get anything accomplished today. I feel terrible about it."

"Do not worry yourself, Christine. Spend some time with Meg. You can find us something another day," Erik finalized.

"Well, if you are sure, then I would love to see Meg," Christine smiled.

As Christine excused herself and returned to her bedroom, Nadir addressed Erik. "What business do we have tomorrow, my friend?"

Finishing his tea, Erik answered, "I do not wish to burden Christine. I will take care of the details regarding a home. Also, there is something I need purchase in town, which brings me to my next question. I do believe you have something for me, Daroga?"

"I do?" Nadir questioned, but he knew very well what Erik was referring to.

"Do _not_ play me for a fool, Daroga. I know that Monsieur Reinard entrusted you with a considerable amount of funds to deliver to me. Now, if you would be so kind as to complete the transaction." Erik held out his hand expectantly.

Nadir stood up and put his hands behind his back. "Oh, yes, I forgot about that. I must offer my apologies for I fear there is a _slight _problem, Erik."

"Problem?" Erik raised his voice and stood up. "What _problem_ would that be, Daroga?"

Nadir walked to the edge of the lair facing the lake. "Well you see, as I was struggling to maneuver the boat, I seemed to have dropped it in the lake, just over there." Nadir pointed out across the misty water.

Erik's eyes grew wide with shock. There was no way he was going to let 200,000 francs sit at the bottom of the murky waters that surrounded his home.

"Nadir, you _incomparable_ fool!" Erik jumped into the lake, wading across it and submerging himself every few feet, bobbing up and down frantically.

Nadir was quite entertained with the spectacle before him. His friend was soaked from head to toe, like a wet mop with no purpose.

Before Erik could get out of range, Nadir decided to call to him. "Oh, _Erik_..." Nadir said, waving the package in the air teasingly, "I guess I _didn't _drop it in the lake _after _all." He laughed uncontrollably; feeling very vindicated with is prank. _"That should teach him for awhile!"_ Nadir thought with satisfaction.

Erik let out a yell that echoed off the walls around them. _"DAROGA!"_

_

* * *

_  
**Disclaimer:**  
I am not affiliated, nor do I own the rights to "The Phantom of the Opera," as well as the "Jules Verne" name. He was an amazing man! My thanks to him for his masterful works he's given to the world.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note**  
Okay my loyal readers, this time I have placed the author's note to the top to let everyone know that this contains Erik and Christine fluffiness! I'm sure this earns a justified M Rating, so you have been warned. -smiles- I've posted this story over at Adult Fan Fiction due to the major edit of this Chapter. For those interested in the uncut version, you can find it there (Same Pen Name: phanatic4phantom and same story name "To Be Held"). It's under the "books" section and then go to The Phantom of the Opera. Enjoy!

**CHAPTER 20**

After verbally abusing Nadir and sending him home, Erik went to his bedroom to see about getting out of his drenched clothing. He would surely catch a cold if he didn't get into something warm and dry. He would have Nadir to thank if he fell ill after tonight's folly. He shook his head at the thought of Nadir's trick. Erik would get him back. It was inevitable.

* * *

Christine found it odd that after she had bathed and dressed for bed, Erik still had not come to her. She sat reading, hoping to pass the time, but she soon found herself impatient. She wondered where he could be. She placed her book on the dresser and decided to go see what had happened to him. 

She walked out of her bedroom and into the main room, which she noticed was completely dark. The only light she could see was a faint flicker coming from underneath Erik's bedroom door.

"Erik?" Christine whispered. "Erik, are you in here?"

The door was slightly ajar and she peered through the gap curiously. She stopped short and took a sudden breath and was instantly frozen. She mentally screamed at herself to run back to her room. Her feet would not listen to her as her heart pounded so loudly, she thought it would pop right out of her chest. In this moment, she knew that watching him was wrong, but she couldn't do anything to remove herself from his door. So there she stood, in awe.

* * *

Erik drew a hot bath and walked back into his bedroom to free his body of its soaked prison. He took his jacket off and hung it over a chair. He sat down to remove his boots and caught the flicker of flame from his candelabra in the reflection of the full-length mirror he had in his room. It was the only mirror he had that wasn't covered by a drape. After all, he needed to make sure he was always impeccably dressed and that was the only way to be sure. Normally he abhorred his image, but there was no way around it. 

He thought of Christine and wondered what she would think of him. He knew she did not fear his face, but what of his body? Would it be pleasing to her? He had not thought that his physique would be an issue. He never had to worry about it since it was always his face he tried to keep from the world, but now this new dilemma perplexed him.

He walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. He looked absolutely appalling in his watery nightmare. He let out a long sigh and began to undo his cravat, dropping it to the floor. Next came his shirt, as he let hit droop off his shoulders and down his arms, falling to the ground behind him.

There he stood before the mirror, bare-chested, in just his trousers. He noticed he was slender, but still had a nice build; his chest and abdomen were firmly chiseled.

Suddenly he turned. He thought he heard something, but then dismissed it as the sound of the lake rippling outside.

He again turned his concentration on his image in the mirror. His mask sat firmly in place, as he ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back. He brushed his fingers against the patch of hair that matted in the middle of his chest, rubbing it slightly to free it of its disarray. His attention was drawn to the various scars scattered across the front of him, lines of raised white skin. There was no doubt in his mind that his back shared the same markings. He turned around and looked over his shoulder to view what he already knew. More lines of raised white skin. However, these were longer than the ones he had on his front. He did have a strong back, he realized as he flexed the muscles slightly. He hoped Christine would not shy away from his body after seeing the abusive scars they harbored.

He turned around again and let out another long breath, as there was one last thing he needed to check. He stood in front of the mirror with his fingers at the waistband of his trousers.

* * *

Christine was hypnotized by Erik's display before her. She wondered why he was wet, but she was even more curious as to why he inspected his body as he shed his clothes. She couldn't peel herself away from the door. She watched every movement he made. 

With each piece of clothing that came off her skin flushed into a fevered sweat. As Erik touched his body, she felt faint.

She brought a hand up to her mouth as she saw the long markings on his back reflecting against the mirror. She knew they were wounds he had received when he had spent those terrible times with the gypsies. Christine closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. When she opened her eyes she crossed herself and as she focused her eyes back at Erik, her mouth fell open. _"God will certainly not forgive me if I stay a moment longer,"_ she thought, knowing what Erik was about to do next.

There he stood with his fingers at the waistband of his trousers.

Heaven help her for she could not be swayed from this sinfully sweet seduction that lay before her.

* * *

Erik wanted to be pleasing for Christine in every possible way. Everything he had checked so far, aside from the markings, had been satisfactory. 

In one graceful movement he pushed his trousers down to his ankles and stepped out of them.

There he stood, completely naked in front of the mirror. He turned slowly in a complete circle, checking his reflection. From the waist down, he was free from markings of any kind. His lower half was perfection. He glanced at the muscles in his legs and thighs, which were well defined. He turned to his side to view his backside, which he noted was in perfect symmetry. There was one last thing to observe and he would take his bath.

He stood in front of the mirror, placing his hands flat against his chest then gliding them down past the small ripples of his muscled stomach, down his firm abdomen and stopped at the dark trail of hair that descended down from just below his navel.

* * *

Christine's eyes grew wide. There he was, shed of all his clothing. She didn't need to see her face to know that it was completely red at this point. The fire within completely engulfed her rational state of mind otherwise she knew she would feel completely terrible for invading on his privacy in this immoral fashion. 

She lost herself in his body, and as he touched himself she envisioned it was her hands on him. With every trace she slowly lost her breath as her skin prickled, beading sweat from her body. Her palms were damp from nervous anxiety. She tried to calm her nerves to no avail. She didn't know how much longer she could remain standing. The strange pang of desire fluttering in her belly was luring her to him.

* * *

Erik traced the hairs with his fingers and moved lower stopping at the dark curly mound of hair that surrounded his manhood. He closed his eyes briefly and thought of Christine at that moment. He reminded himself that he was doing this for her sake. He wanted to look upon himself envisioning her eyes viewing him for the first time. He was used to his body, but she was not. 

He viewed the length of himself and looked at his reflection. He never had any way to compare himself to other men. He had seen pictures of the male anatomy in several medical books he possessed as well as images from a few questionable publications he had come across. Erik wondered if he would be enough of a man for Christine during intimacy. They were both pure, so he was not certain one way or another how it would be when they finally coupled. He remembered the journals he had read about the female body that mentioned discomfort during a woman's first encounter. His mind drifted with thoughts of Christine and himself in the throes of passion. He wouldn't want to pain her in any way. If it could be avoided, he would find a way.

* * *

Christine watched Erik inspecting himself, as her legs began to feel weak. His body was strong and smooth as the shadows of the candlelight danced upon him, kissing every sculpted muscle across him from head to toe. She wanted to get lost in Erik forever.

* * *

Erik wondered if it was a sin to view his body in this fashion. Not being of any particular faith, he doubted that normal people would do something like this, let alone spend such extensive time doing it. Well, it was no matter. He didn't fear God, since he felt God had abandoned him since his birth. He was only doing this for Christine. She was everything to him. 

It was only when she came into his life that he had dared to love and decided that there would only be one possible way to ever release his urges. His fulfillment would only be found in her. There would be no other way for him. He wasn't a very patient man and he had often dreamt about being coupled with her. His anguish only heightened, as he'd wake from those vivid dreams.

His thoughts betrayed him, as his need was ever present before him. In a blink of an eye, he let out his frustrations and launched his fist into the mirror.

* * *

Christine ran her hands along her body, trying to calm her burning skin. As she listened to Erik's steady breathing it shook her to her core. She closed her eyes and imagined their bodies entwined, not knowing what end they would both find together. 

As suddenly as her thoughts brought her to fantasy, she woke to the sound of shattering glass, shocking her back into reality. She saw Erik curse himself as he inspected the damage to his right hand.

Caught in a foggy haze, she pushed the door open without thought, and stood before her Angel.

Erik was dumbfounded as she grabbed for his hand to see what kind of damage he had done.

He had opened up his middle knuckle and there were bits of glass embedded in his skin, but otherwise the break had been miraculously clean.

Erik quickly reached for his cape and covered himself as Christine disappeared into his bathroom.

She filled a small basin with warm water then added some hydrogen peroxide to it.

Carefully bringing the mixture out to him, she knelt by his feet and pulled a chair in front of him. Placing the basin onto the chair, she reached for his hand and gently submerged it into the liquid. Erik hissed slightly as the water covered his wounds. After a few moments, she lifted his hand out of the basin and proceeded to carefully remove what was left of the glass. She patted his hand dry with a towel then dressed his hand firmly.

After tenderly nursing his wound, she kissed it and placed his hand gingerly onto his lap. She held his bandaged hand in hers as she lowered her head to rest on his left thigh.

Erik brushed her flowing curls over her shoulder with his left hand. Sighing as he closed his eyes, he finally found his voice. "Christine, what are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you. I wondered why you had not come to see me in my room, so I came looking for you, Angel." Christine stated simply.

Curiosity and shame plagued him. He kept his eyes closed, as he feared the next answer to his question. "How long did you watch me before you came in, mon ange?"

Christine was circling Erik's knee nervously as his question registered. She felt herself blush in guilt. She could not lie to him. "Erik, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude on you. Please forgive me. I can't lie to you, my Angel. I saw you."

Erik flinched and felt like an imbecile. He paled considerably at the thought of her watching him.

Silence separated them as she felt his tension. She slowly picked her head up and looked at him. With his eyes closed, she would have thought him asleep if it were possible to be asleep in such a position. She felt him tremble slightly as she eyed him. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was afraid of her. He looked so vulnerable wrapped in nothing but his cape. "Erik? What's wrong? What are you thinking about?"

He opened his eyes as he felt her hand touch his chest. He then realized she was looking up at him with those big brown eyes full of wonderment. She was such an innocent Angel. He was embarrassed she had viewed him in such a personal way. "Do not worry, mon ange. Please, forget about what you saw tonight. I'm sorry you had to bear witness to my unbecoming behavior."

"It's not your fault, Erik. You didn't do anything wrong. It was I that intruded upon you, but I couldn't help myself. You are…" she was interrupted.

"Appalling… I know, Christine. Just forget about it." He turned his head away from her closing his eyes in shame.

She stood up in front of him and caressed the left side of his face adoringly. "Beautiful," she said.

He opened his eyes and turned to meet her tender gaze. "Christine?"

"You are beautiful." She looked at him unblinking. She leaned closer to him and kissed him affectionately.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her, modestly at first, then with intense need as she came to rest upon his lap, wrapping her legs around him. Their mouths parted and their tongues circled feverishly as their breathing became uneven and heavy.

Christine ran her hands through his hair pulling his head closer to deepen their kiss. Erik growled into her mouth as he obeyed her, enveloping her mouth with his. She ran her hands down the base of his neck and moved to the sides of his shoulders as she slid his cape off. His chest was now exposed to her as she ran her hands across his chest, grasping at it.

Erik pulled her closer to him. She looked at him with fire in her eyes, and this stirred him. She brought her mouth to his neck and nibbled it. Erik took a deep breath savoring the sensation she was giving him. She grew bolder at his sounds of pleasure and traced his collarbone with her tongue. He was losing his mind as she teased him. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out. He eased himself down to rest his back upon the bed.

Christine was now straddled upon him. She covered his chest with kisses. He inhaled deeply as he lost himself to her. Erik closed his eyes trying to find sanity hidden in the darkness, but his urge was great. He held onto her as she slid her hands down the sides of his body until they came to rest upon the fabric of his cape loosely covering his waist.

He opened his eyes in a flash and grabbed her wrists. She looked up at him and he met her with a bewildered gaze.

"Leave me, Christine." Erik said curtly, as he sat up and tried his best to calm himself.

Christine was puzzled by his sudden mood shift as she tried to ask, "Erik, I…."

"I need to bathe. Please go, Christine." Erik gently moved her off of him, stood, and walked away from her. Disappearing into his bathroom, he locked the door behind him.

A tear escaped Christine's eye, then another. She ran to her room feeling terribly alone.


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

The Comte de Chagny felt it was time to visit with his brother Raoul. After the events with Christine, he figured it would be amusing to let his brother know how he had defended the de Chagny good name. Philippe was rather proud of his tirade. He was certain his brother would undoubtedly be as well. As he exited his carriage, he came across a messenger headed for the front door.

"You there, what news do you bring?" Philippe asked as he walked up to him.

"It is addressed to le Vicomte, Monsieur," the messenger said simply.

"I shall have it, boy. I am le Vicomte's brother," Philippe announced, holding out his hand.

The messenger complied then went about his way.

As he reached the front door, Philippe studied the envelope. It didn't appear to be anything of a business nature and he noted that the writing was most definitely female. _"Perhaps it is from that conniving harlot! I will not subject my brother to her manipulations,"_ he thought as he tore the seal, gaining access to its contents.

_**Dear Raoul,**_

_**I had a wonderful time last night. I am glad we were able to spend time together. I wanted to thank you for a wonderful dinner and for inviting me into your beautiful home. **_

_**Maman was not nearly as upset as I thought she would be. At least I am not in the nunnery, no? Maybe she will just work me harder during rehearsals when I return. C'est la vie!**_

_**I look forward to seeing you again, mon ami. **_

_**Fondly,  
Meg **_

Philippe couldn't believe what he saw. _"Surely he would not entertain such foolishness with yet another common chorus girl?"_ he questioned. He wondered how this could be happening again, after what Christine put Raoul through. _"Have I not mentored him better than this?"_ Philippe decided it was time to put an end to this nonsense.

* * *

Raoul sat in his study going over several business documents he had neglected over the past several days. He leaned back into his leather chair and placed his hands to his temples. He felt a headache building through the sea of white sheets before him. As he studied the paperwork regarding the reconstruction of the Opera Populaire, he was interrupted by his frantic brother Philippe, storming towards him. 

"Raoul! What is the meaning of _this_?" Philippe demanded, as he threw the letter at him.

Raoul scanned the contents before answering. "_This_ was my personal correspondence, brother. _Why_ would you go through it? You had no right…" Raoul was interrupted.

"I have _every_ right, Raoul! I have always looked after you. It is a good thing I did open that letter, dear brother. I could not prevent your mistake with Christine, but I will be damned if I stand here and do nothing about this _new_ affection of yours. Another commoner, Raoul…? _Why _would you disgrace our family? There are many available debutants worthy of carrying the de Chagny name. Why not take this stage tramp as a mistress, if you feel so compelled?" Philippe argued.

"_ENOUGH!_ I will _not_ have you speak of Mademoiselle Giry in that manner, brother! You need not worry about her. We are just friends, but I find her company much more pleasing than those socialite snobs. I have never been one for propriety, Philippe, but I behave accordingly when I must. _That_, however, does not mean it is who I _am_." Raoul justified.

Philippe sighed at shook his head. "Heaven forbid you go around town with that trollop! Speaking of which, I ran into your _beloved _Christine. It seems she is now _whoring_ around with some foreign fellow. I'm glad that you were wise enough to call off the engagement to that untitled wench. She was only after your fortune, Raoul. Seeing her with that strange man at the bank today only _proves _my theory."

Raoul rubbed at his temples. The headache was present now and only worsened as Philippe continued speaking. Unable to subside the pounding in his head, Raoul warned, "Your presence is _most_ unsettling at the moment, brother. My personal life is my _own_ and I thank you _not_ to interfere. It's over between Christine and I. You need not concern yourself with _her _affairs. I _will_ not tolerate it, Philippe. Now, I ask that you leave me to my business. There is _much_ to be done concerning the reconstruction of the opera house."

"Actually, that is no longer _yours_ to oversee, little brother," Philippe smirked. "Father wishes _me_ to handle the negotiations regarding the opera house due to _your_ poor mismanagement of it and the chaos that brought it down in the first place. I will need those documents, Raoul," Philippe stated as he pointed to the pile on the desk.

With a puzzled look on his face, Raoul reluctantly handed the opera documents to his brother. "Leave me now, Philippe. I _wish_ to be alone." Raoul walked over to his settee and leaned his head back against it.

"Very well. I need to head to the Opera Populaire in any case," Philippe said, annoyed with his dismissal.

With Philippe gone, Raoul's headache subsided to a dull throb. He called for his maid Therese to bring him some tea so he could enjoy a brief nap before sending Meg a message.

He drank two cups and then resumed his position on the settee, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath before exhaling and falling asleep.

_Raoul fell into a trap as he made his way down the staircase where Madame Giry had brought him. Thoughts of Christine and her safety was all he could think of as he tried desperately to free himself from his watery prison. He was quickly running out of breath, trying in vain to turn the iron wheel that would stop the grate from coming down on him. It wouldn't budge. As he lost consciousness, he prayed to God to forgive him for not being able to get to Christine._

_He opened his eyes to someone kissing him. He could not make out a face nor could he understand why he was still able to breath underwater. He could see hairs of gold floating against the water as well as, "A tail? A mermaid!" Raoul thought with disbelief as this maiden savior pulled him by the arm to bring him to the surface. _

"_Follow your heart and there you shall find her," the soothing voice said._

"_I don't understand… wait!" Raoul caught a glimpse of her face as she returned to the depths of whence she came. _

_In complete shock at the sight, Raoul uttered, "Meg?"_

Raoul sat up in a panic. He didn't understand why his dreams would always go from Christine to Meg in such a strange fashion. He thought he was slowly losing his mind, but he shook that idea off as just being silly. _"I simply must not drink **this** anymore,"_ he spoke to himself as he lifted the teacup from the table and swirled the remainder of its contents around in amusement.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
I know this wasn't the update people were anticipating. -grins- Trust me, Erik and Christine will get together in just a few more Chapters. Hang in there everyone! To My Newest Readers: TERRY-crazy italian, Dracula's Love Slave, and EriksMezzoSoprano. Your reviews were phantastic! Thanks for the support and I hope you continue to enjoy my first fic as it progresses. Super Phantabulous Erik Smooches: To All My Faithful Readers still hanging out in the opera rafters! -smiles- 


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

Erik sat with his head resting against the tub as he watched the steam from the water rise before him. He couldn't get the image of what happened moments ago out of his mind.

He wanted her.

He wanted to give in so badly. He knew that he could have taken her and made love to her just then, but he wouldn't. He wanted his first time with Christine to be perfect. He would ask her to marry him and then they would share their intimate union as man and wife. He would do this for Christine because she was devoted to God, an angel sent down from his heavenly kingdom. He closed his eyes and thought about his plans in the morning. Erik would return home with two surprises for his Angel.

* * *

Christine sat in her bed, knees to her chest, resting her head against them. Her tears had dried upon her face as she thought of what had happened between her an Erik. She smiled at first to the thoughts of the closeness they shared and how it made her feel. She would have given herself to him, but he pushed her away. This thought made her smile fade and the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She wondered why he did not want her. She was sure that he was enjoying her as much as she did him. He spent years trying to be close with her and had gone to extreme measures to ensure she would be with him, which in the end had turned in his favor, but why was he acting as if he didn't want her now? He seemed so eager to touch her, but would always shy away when things became heated. She questioned if maybe he feared she would leave him again once they had become intimate, but if that were the case, would they ever become coupled? She closed her eyes and sighed at all the negativity floating in her mind.

* * *

Erik's bath had relaxed him considerably. All he wanted to do now was get some sleep. He was thankful to finally be in dry clothes. He got in his bed and stretched into a yawn. As he lay there with his eyes half closed, he could smell Christine's scent within the sheets. "Christine…" he murmured. He had to check on her before he would allow sleep to take him. There was no excuse for the way he left things. He only hoped that she would understand. He wearily got out of bed and made his way to her bedroom. 

Erik opened her door quietly whispering her name. "Christine…" There was no answer. He got closer to her and saw her curled into a ball asleep. _"She must be cold,"_ he thought to himself as she slept above the covers of the swan bed.

Not wanting to wake her, he walked over to her armoire and took out a spare blanket from the bottom drawer. She stirred slightly as he carefully covered her within the warmth of the blanket. He brushed her curly locks away from her face as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "You alone can make my song take flight - help me make the music of the night… " Erik sang softly.

As he turned to leave her, she grabbed onto his hand. Her eyes were focused on him dreamily. He was surprised she had even heard him. Then again, he always had this power over Christine whenever he sang to her.

"Stay with me?" she asked with pleading eyes.

"Christine, I…" Erik tried to reason, but she interrupted.

"Erik, please just hold me. I don't know what happened between us earlier, but make it right and stay with me tonight?" She begged.

This was the power she had over him. Erik could never refuse her.

Christine lifted the covers and he crawled in beside her. She nestled against him, placing her arm on his chest, and closing her eyes. "Sing for me, Angel?" she asked quietly.

"What would you like me to sing, Christine?" he yawned and looked down at her.

She was asleep.

He smiled at the thought of her being lucid one moment and completely unconscious the next. Erik decided he would sing to her regardless, because she had asked him to.

_Softly, deftly,  
music shall caress you . . .  
Hear it, feel it  
secretly possess you . . .  
Open up your mind,  
let your fantasies unwind,  
in this darkness which  
you know you cannot fight -  
the darkness of  
the music of the night . . ._

He closed his eyes and fell asleep as the last note hovered around them.

* * *

Erik woke up freezing. Somehow during the night, Christine had tangled herself around the sheets and left him with none. She looked like a mummy from the neck down. He would have thought she was uncomfortable in that manner, but she was sleeping soundly. 

Deciding not to wake her, he got up and went to his bedroom to get ready for the day.

After warming his body in a hot bath, he dressed and went to the kitchen to make a light breakfast. He made some Russian tea, warmed some bread, and found some strawberry preserves that Madame Giry had brought for him. _"Christine will enjoy this,"_ Erik thought with a smile. _"Perhaps this will make up for my abruptness of last night," _he hoped. He always knew how much she loved sweets of any kind. Finishing his breakfast in a flash, Erik readied a tray to take to Christine. He finished it off with his trademark rose and carefully made his way to her bedroom.

Erik stopped a moment as Christine giggled in her sleep. He moved closer to her and set the tray down by his feet. He watched her awhile as she smiled. Then she spoke.

"Papa, play me a tune."

Erik didn't know she spoke in her sleep. Her lips began to pout.

"Please, Papa? You promised to play for me so that the Angel of Music can come to me in the night."

Erik thought for a moment. _"This would be the perfect way to wake her from her slumber, with music."_

He walked out into the main room to retrieve his violin. _"If it's an Angel of Music she wants, then she shall have it."_

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he positioned the violin to his chin and played. The music began to fill the room. Each note caressed him as he became one with his instrument. He closed his eyes as he played passionately and commanded the music as he bound himself to it. He was dedicated to his music and it to him. Nothing could pull him out from his trance, nothing except... for her. _"That voice, I know it well, for I alone make it take flight." _He opened his eyes and heard as he'd never heard before.

_Father once spoke  
of an angel . . .  
I used to dream he'd  
appear . . ._

_Now as I sing,  
I can sense him . . .  
And I know  
he's here . . ._

His beautiful Christine had awoken and was singing to him with adoration in her eyes. He would never tire of her heavenly voice. He placed the violin beside him and placed his fingers underneath her chin, pulling her closer, he sang in a whisper, "I am your Angel of Music." He kissed her lips tenderly.

"I shall want you to wake me in this manner forever, my Angel" Christine said as they parted.

"You have but to ask, bel ange, for I am your obedient servant." Erik said as he picked up her hand and kissed it. "Now, you must eat, though I fear it may be a bit cold now."

He retrieved the tray from the floor, setting it beside her.

"Oh, Erik! Strawberry preserves! You know how I love strawberries!" She eyed the tray with enthusiasm.

"Oui, I know how much you love anything sweet, mon amour, but be warned, I may grow jealous of your love for such things, forcing me to keep these delectable sweets from you," he said with a playful smile.

Christine glared at him teasingly as she chewed.

"Mon ange, you know that look will only make me want to savor in my own sweets." He moved in on her and kissed her, tasting the sweetness of the strawberries lingering upon her lips. As they parted he reminded her of the day's events. "Nadir will be here soon. Will you need anything while I am out?" he inquired.

Christine finished her tea, and then responded, "I will need you to come home to me as soon as possible."

Erik picked the rose up from the tray and touched it to her nose saying, "I shall be back before you even notice, Christine."

* * *

Erik and Nadir left while Christine finished getting dressed. She was excited to be seeing Meg and to be able to go out and enjoy the fresh air. She didn't mind being in the lair because she was with Erik, but the kiss of the sun and the endless blue sky always made her love being alive. She grabbed her parasol and made sure her skirts were in order then made her way through Madame Giry's secret passage. "_Today will be a better one," _she assured herself.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
I hope this Chapter helped to make up for the last one. -smiles- E/C super fluff in just a few more Chapters, you guys can hang in there... I have faith in you all! -cheers- 


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23 **

Erik and Nadir made it into town, just as the shops began to open to their patrons. The carriage came to a stop in front of the jewelry store that Christine had told Erik about. Nadir looked at Erik, as he was about to exit the carriage.

"Are you sure you want to go in there, Erik? I can do this for you, my boy. Besides, what if someone sees you?"

Erik pulled his fedora further down the right side of his face and pulled his cape up around him. "Daroga, you forget that I am but an apparition. I shall not be long."

As Nadir was about to respond, Erik was gone. _"It's unnerving when he does that,"_ Nadir thought as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Erik swiftly entered the store then ducked behind a counter by the far wall to view the storekeeper laying out a few displays for the day with her back turned. _"Perfect!"_ He thought as he crept silently to the main windowed display.

Erik knew exactly what he wanted. Christine spoke of it with such detail. There was no mistaking its design. It was an elegant white gold band with a ruby gem and pink diamond baguettes shaped in a rose. It was flawless in beauty and Erik was highly impressed. He thought back to Christine as she spoke of it and her unfortunate run in with Philippe. _"That bastard!"_ Erik thought with disgust.

He reached to the bottom left corner of the display and coveted his prize within his gloved hand. He crouched low as he heard the storekeeper cough to clear her throat. Erik peered from under his fedora carefully. He thought he had been caught for a moment.

The storekeeper kept to her business and hadn't noticed him in the slightest. It would be easy for him to leave and not pay for his newly acquired treasure, but Erik was no thief. He had no choice in his youth, but now that he was a rather well off man, he could afford any luxury he desired.

Erik held the francs in his hand and silently made his move to the main counter. He placed the francs neatly across the countertop and made his way to the front door in stealth. Before exiting, he threw his voice with expertise. "For the ring in your main display window, Madame."

The storekeeper was startled from her work as she drew in a breath of surprise. She turned to see the front door coming to a close and before her on the countertop was enough francs to cover the entire days worth of purchases.

* * *

Nadir sat in the carriage looking out of the window for Erik. He was nervously tapping his fingers on his knee, waiting. Erik viewed him from outside just as he opened the door. 

"Really, Nadir, _you _look like a worried old spinster," Erik chuckled, sitting himself across from the man.

"_Must_ you sneak up on people like that, Erik?" Nadir asked, startled.

"Old habits die hard, Daroga." Erik replied as he tapped the roof of the carriage. "The town of Melun, driver!"

With a click of his tongue, the driver took the reigns and they were off again.

As the carriage made its way to its destination, Erik and Nadir spoke about Melun. Erik told Nadir about an estate in which he had acquired a few years back. He had forgotten about it until a recent reminder jogged his memory.

"What is this house of roses, Erik?" Nadir asked simply.

"La Maison de Roses, Daroga, is an estate that sits along the Seine. It's been a project of mine that Monsieur Reinard oversees. It was not until I read the small note enclosed in my money parcel from him that reminding me of it. He had suggested it because he questioned why I would need to purchase another home. He was also rather adamant about it not being financially sound to acquire a second property when I already owned an estate."

Nadir scratched his head and asked, "How on earth did you even come across such a place? I didn't think you got out from under your _rock_ much, my boy."

Erik glared back at Nadir and the foreign man just chuckled. Erik shook his head then continued, "I remembered it long ago from my travels with the gypsies. When I found out the previous owners were selling it, I had Monsieur Reinard purchase it and make sure that the reconstruction was being followed according to my sketches. I planned on leaving it for Madame Giry and Meg once the work was completed. I owe Annette so much and she deserves a place to call her own instead of that dreadfully small flat she's in now. I still intend for her to have the estate, but for now I find it rather convenient for the situation, don't you?"

Nadir nodded in agreement.

* * *

Located at the end of a private road was an imposing iron gate, which led to the central property access. A magnificent stoned paved courtyard opened onto the estate. The grounds were green and the surrounding flora was a sight indeed. 

"_No wonder Erik was drawn to this place," _Nadir thought as he eyed the property in awe.

There were so many different shades of roses that it definitely lived up to its name. La Maison de Roses was abundant with charm and beauty. Ten employees that lived full time on the property overlooked the estate. The maids and servants would be at hand anytime of the day to treat its Lord and Lady like royalty.

The sixteen-bedroom estate was furnished with beautiful period pieces and decorated with antique tapestries and artwork. Each bedroom was custom decorated and exquisitely furnished with a combination of French antiques and imported case goods, hand-made upholstery and luxurious bedding. Goose down duvets and pillows completed the four-poster oak beds. All the bedrooms had their own private bathroom.

A wooden staircase led to three bedrooms in the West wing and a stone spiral staircase led to three bedrooms in the East wing. This wing housed the master suite with its own fireplace, a private terrace, separate changing room and master bathroom. The entire room was beamed with wood and solid oak flooring. The main attraction of this room was its hidden secret that Erik specifically had constructed according to his blueprints. Behind the mirror lay a separate stone tower. He named it Rapunzel's Tower. It overlooked the rose gardens and its spiral staircase led down into it as well.

Two glorious grand salons that sat between the main ballroom were adorned with fifteenth century stone-carved monumental fireplaces, hand-painted murals, marbled flooring, and stained glass windows. Les Anges dans les Nuages, or Angels in the Clouds, was the name of the first salon and the other salon was called La Beauté de Musique, or The Beauty of Music. Each salon depicted just as the rooms stated. The magnificent grand ballroom, Mascarade de l'amour, or Love's Masquerade, housed yet another monumental fireplace and an amazing oak-beamed cathedral ceiling with more stained glass windows, antique artwork, and a chandelier oddly similar to the one Erik brought down at the opera, though this was smaller.

The sitting room also had a fifteenth century fireplace and oak flooring. Bay windows exposed the rest of the grounds, opening to a romantic stone terrace. There was also a massive library that adjoined a large private study.

The medieval wine cave housed bottles as far as the eye could see and the gourmet kitchen was a chef's dream. It had all the necessities for making even the simplest of meals extravagant.

The ambiance The House of Roses radiated was beyond words. _"Just like Erik,"_ Nadir concluded.

"So, what do you think, Nadir?" Erik asked proudly.

"Well, I have to question, with something _this_ impressive, _why_ in the name of Allah do you chose to stay in that _dingy_ lair?" Nadir enjoyed poking fun at his friend, but Erik was too excited to let even Nadir dampen his mood.

"I gather you fancy the estate then. I knew you would, old friend. I am thankful that everything has been completed to my approval. It seems that only the stables have yet to be remodeled and the placement of my custom-made fountains, otherwise the timing could not have been more perfect. Christine will be thrilled! Let's head back to Paris. I wish to bring Christine here tonight for dinner.

Before leaving the estate, Erik made sure all the preparations would be ready upon his return. He had dreamed of this night for so long, he could hardly believe that it was actually happening. All Erik could do was grin from ear to ear. _"The Angels will dance in the moonlit sky and the stars against the veil of night will weep with joy, for tonight I will ask my Angel from heaven for her hand in marriage."_

_

* * *

_  
**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights in regards to "Rapunzel" or its authors The Grimm Brothers. It's an incredible fairytale. Thanks for the classical magic, brothers!


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER 24**

Christine and Meg stood out front of the Opera Populaire watching as the crewmen readied their tools for the renovation. The two girls waved at Messieurs Andre and Firmin who were heading inside to go over the blueprints and any final readjustments.

"Let's go to the bakery and treat ourselves to something delightful!" Meg suggested. "This is rather dull and I would love to hear all about you, Christine." She locked arms with Christine as they made their way down the street.

The sky was a clear, crisp blue and the sun was bright, high in the afternoon sky, as Christine and Meg sat in front of their favorite bakery. They both ordered some tea and as for a sweet treat, Meg ordered a Buchette Delice and Christine ordered a Strawberry Vosgien. They both agreed they'd split their desserts as usual. This was their way of having the best of both worlds.

As they sat enjoying the day, savoring in their sweets, Meg asked Christine how things were going with the mysterious Opera Ghost.

"Things are fine, I guess," Christine shrugged.

"Christine, what is it? You know you can tell me, mon ami," Meg said with concern.

"I'm not sure how he feels about me, Meg. I mean I'm not sure if he wants me." Christine felt a little uneasy talking to Meg about intimacy, but she knew she had no one else to talk to that she trusted and Meg was practically her sister.

"Christine, do you truly believe he doesn't love you? I find the idea rather unfounded. No man would do all the things he did, if he did not love you." Meg tried to reason with her.

Christine took a sip of her tea and then told Meg about what had almost happened between her and Erik and the moments he would pull away from her.

Meg took in everything she had said and let out a sigh. "I will not pretend to know what Erik thinks, but Christine, you would not be with him if he truly did not care for you. He would have disappeared if so. You know he is good at that."

Christine nodded and held her friends hands in her own. "Dearest Meg, you're right. I guess I just worry too much. Maybe things will be better once we get settled outside of town," Christine smiled slightly.

"Give it time, Christine. Things will come into place with a little patience," Meg smiled sympathetically.

"When did you become so wise, Megan Giry?" Christine asked, mimicking her mother's voice. They both giggled uncontrollably.

* * *

As Raoul's carriage passed the bakery on the way to the opera house, he recognized a familiar laugh--two familiar laughs. 

"Francois, stop a moment please," Raoul tapped the roof of the carriage.

Before Francois could pull to a full stop, the young Vicomte had already opened the carriage door and hopped out onto the street.

"I will be fine, Francois. I will walk the rest of the way. Just wait for me out in front of the opera house," Raoul waved.

Francois nodded in compliance and continued down the road toward the Opera Populaire.

* * *

Christine and Meg's faces were completely red from the boisterous laughter they shared. They were both teary eyed and caught totally by surprise as they heard a familiar voice. 

"Good afternoon, ladies. It's quite a beautiful day, is it not?" Raoul suggested hoping to strike up a conversation.

In unison they both spoke Raoul's name then looked at each other in embarrassment.

Raoul bowed and took each one of their hands to place a kiss upon them.

"Raoul, what are you doing here?" Meg asked before Christine could.

"Mind if I join you both?" Raoul gestured to the unoccupied chair.

"Please, be my guest," Christine responded.

Raoul smiled at them both and told them of the latest news regarding Philippe and the opera house.

"How could your father blame you, Raoul?" Christine asked genuinely.

"I tend to disappoint my father often. He has always favored Philippe. I am my mother's son."

Meg placed a hand on Raoul's and Christine watched the small display of affection uneasily. It was going take time to get used to her two best friends in this manner.

"Christine, I apologize if this sounds intrusive, but please know that I ask this as a concerned friend. Is everything alright with you and _him_?" Raoul searched her face for any signs of distress.

Meg watched Raoul carefully as she squeezed his hand.

"Things are fine, Raoul. We just need to work a few things out." Christine replied, not wanting to offer too much information.

"Lotte, my offer will always be open. Should you need anything, you will tell me, will you not?" Raoul slipped his hand from Meg's and held both of Christine's in his.

Meg bowed her head trying to hide her disappointment.

"I'll be fine, Raoul, but thank you for your concern and kindness." Christine smiled and then addressed Meg in hopes that Raoul would release his hands from hers. "Meg, we should head back soon. Your mother will be wondering where we've run off to."

Meg merely nodded as she stood up.

Raoul released Christine's hands and stood up as well. Turning to Meg, he traced her cheek with his finger and smiled at her. "Can I visit you later, Meg?" Raoul asked, oblivious to Meg's change in demeanor.

"I am not certain, Monsieur. Tonight may not be good for me."

Raoul furrowed his eyebrows and wondered why she was suddenly being formal with him. "Is something wrong, little Meg?"

Meg wanted to scream, but she kept her composure and answered. "Non, Monsieur. Everything is fine, but we must go now, so good day to you." She grabbed Christine's arm and began to walk.

Raoul was completely puzzled as he tried to say goodbye to the both of them.

Christine could only look back and wave at him as Meg stormed down the street with her in tow.

"Mon dieu, cet homme est aveugle et stupide! Je ne peux pas prendre beaucoup plus de ceci!" (Translation, in essence: My God, that man is blind and stupid! I cannot take much more of this!) Meg cursed under her breath as they both barreled down the street towards her flat.

Christine tried to calm her down as it finally dawned on her just how much Raoul meant to her dearest friend. "Meg, look at me!" Christine demanded under heavy breath.

Meg's face was stern as she looked at her.

"Raoul and I are through. I know he still cares about me and I still care about him, but it will never be for us. He knows that I will never go back to him. It has only been a few days, Meg. Remember, you told me about patience. I think you should take your own advice, mon ami." Christine looked at Meg with unspoken forgiveness in her big brown eyes.

Meg's face softened, as a tear escaped her face. She grabbed Christine into a hug and cried. "I acted foolishly. I'm sorry, Christine. I didn't mean to behave that way, but I couldn't help it and now Raoul might not see me anymore."

Christine rubbed Meg's back trying to calm her nerves. "It'll be okay, Meg. Don't give up on Raoul. Just give him time. He will come around. He seems genuinely interested in you. As you told me, have some patience." She held Meg by her shoulders as she looked into her teary blue eyes. "No more tears, Megan Giry!" Christine toned, mimicking Madame Giry to get Meg to brighten up. As Meg sniffed her tears away it soon turned into a small fit of giggling.

* * *

Raoul walked up to his carriage at Francois's incessant waving. "What is it, Francois?" He asked. 

"Your brother, le Comte, is here and has gone inside. I thought I should let you know, Monsieur," Francois bowed his head at his master.

"I see. Merci, Francois. I'll go inside and see what my dear brother is up to. I shant be long." Raoul turned on his heel and made his way up the steps and into the Opera Populaire.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
I added the translation for Meg's outburst, since I felt she really would blabber in French if provoked. She was pretty pissed off at Raoul. -laughs- To: Phantomforever, InThisLabyrinth, and Simblemyne342, you three get a weekend getaway at The House of Roses. Continental breakfast served with a side of Erik. -hugs- 


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**

Messieurs Andre, Firmin, and le Comte Philippe sat in a makeshift office discussing the blueprints.

"I am not familiar with this architect, Delacroix. _Why_ have I not been informed of these new designs? They are exceptional, _but_ I am to foresee _all_ the changes being made in the reconstruction. The de Chagny family has put a generous amount of funds into this project and I will _not _tolerate such oversights. Do I make myself clear, Messieurs?" Philippe banged his fist onto the desk.

"Oui, Comte!" Both men said simultaneously.

"But if I may say…" Andre hesitated then continued twisting the end of his mustache, "Monsieur Delacroix offers his services free of charge, which covers our overall expenses quite considerably. Not to mention he also plans to match the de Chagny donation to benefit the Arts."

Philippe did not like to look like a fool, especially by someone he had not even had the pleasure of meeting yet, but on paper.

A knock on the door broke Philippe's concentration.

Raoul ran a hand through his hair as he strode inside and bowed to the gentlemen before him.

"What brings you here, little brother?" Philippe asked, annoyed.

"I came to see how things were progressing and to offer my services to Messieurs Andre and Firmin, should they need it." Raoul announced.

"We have gone over this, brother. Father no longer wishes…" Philippe, wide-eyed at the interruption, glared at his brother.

"I _know_ what he said, Philippe, but I am offering my _own_ services. Not on behalf of anyone else." Raoul clarified.

The managers stared at each other as they witnessed the siblings arguing with one another like children at a playground.

"I do apologize, but should we not focus on the opera's reconstruction?" Firmin asked breaking the brotherly quarrel.

Philippe looked at Firmin in shock that he would dare interrupt.

Raoul offered his hand and his apologies for his behavior. "You are right, Monsieur Firmin. We should put our energies into the opera and not exhaust them on each other."

Andre and Firmin nodded and smiled at Raoul's business-like manner. They both preferred this young man's ability to that of his unscrupulous brother Philippe.

"I wish to _see_ this Monsieur Delacroix! I find it highly unethical for a man to be so involved in such a venture and _not_ appear before us during matters of business." Philippe specified.

Andre and Firmin explained to Philippe that they had never seen him and that their generous patron was an eccentric recluse who saw no one. "All his affairs are directed through messenger or his advisor Monsieur Reinard," Andre finished.

Philippe rubbed at his chin with suspicion. _"It's best not to include this 'Delacroix' for now. I already had to deal with these three idiots before me!"_ It was already proving to be very trying on him. "So be it. We shall carry on just fine without Monsieur Delacroix. His blueprints and financial backing are good enough." Philippe said decisively.

Raoul was curious about Monsieur Delacroix, but with what the managers had just described, he had a clear impression on the identity of this particular 'eccentric recluse.' He wasn't too sure what to think. The Phantom brought the opera house down, but now he was aiding in its repair? _"A guilty conscience, perhaps, or maybe Christine's doing."_

The men all agreed that the Opera Populaire would begin construction first thing in the morning and the estimated completion was set for the summer.

"Just in time for la jour de Bastille!" Andre exclaimed.

"That should be quite lucrative, Andre!" Firmin cajoled.

"We shall have to put on a big production, followed by a celebration ball!" Philippe suggested, as he counted the figures in his mind.

"Might I suggest, Marivaux's The Game of Love and Chance?" Raoul recommended.

"Brilliant idea, Vicomte!" Firmin agreed.

"Smashing idea, indeed!" Andre confirmed.

"Brother, I had no idea you _fancied_ romantic comedies," Philippe teased.

Raoul looked at his brother and sighed. "There's much that you don't know about me, Philippe, nor will you _ever_ for that matter."

* * *

Raoul excused himself and left the three men to finish their financial discussions upon the opera's grand re-opening. He had more pressing matters to address. 

"To Mademoiselle Giry's flat, Francois." Raoul ordered as he climbed into the carriage.

He had to settle something that weighed heavily on his mind from this afternoon's incident.

* * *

Raoul straightened out his jacket, smoothed out his hair with both hands and then knocked on the front door of the Giry residence. He stood straight and confident although his nerves were on edge. The lock clicked, which startled him briefly. As the door opened and he saw her, he smiled. 

"Raoul? What is it? Is something wrong?" Meg cocked her head slightly in wonder.

"Non, everything is fine… I hope. But never mind that, little Meg. May I come in? I need to talk to you."

Meg ushered Raoul into the sitting room. They both shared the long settee, which Meg often sat in to read her romance novels. She placed a few books that sat atop the settee onto the table in front of them. She tapped her foot in nervous anticipation, but was calmed by Raoul's touch as he held her hands in his.

Raoul looked into her mirror-like blue eyes and tried to apologize for what happened outside of the bakery. He knew his concern for Christine, although friendly, still harbored some left over feelings for her that he still held close to his heart. "Meg, I didn't mean any disrespect. I cannot ask you to understand, but I will always care about Christine, even though her choice has already been made. I accept her decision as long as she continues to be safe and happy."

Meg put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't feel guilty, Raoul. I should be the one to apologize for my childish behavior. I don't know what came over me. Christine is so dear to me, like a sister, and you, Raoul, you have been such a wonderful friend. Can you forgive me?"

Raoul had expected Meg to yell or throw something at him, but certainly not this_. "She is quite an amazing young lady,"_ he thought as they gazed tranquilly in each other's eyes.

As they slowly leaned into each other, one of the books Meg had placed on the table fell to the ground. They both snapped out of their trance and reached for the book, colliding into each other, bumping heads. They both rubbed at their skulls and laughed.

"This is becoming a habit, Mademoiselle." Raoul said comically.

Meg giggled and agreed with him. "I fear we are hopeless, Monsieur." She added to his jest.

Raoul watched her nose wrinkle as she laughed and smiled so preciously. She warmed his soul with her innocent nature. Meg was genuine, not like the socialites he had come across many times who had their own agenda of bedding a wealthy noble to further their status amongst the rest of society. She was like a breath of fresh air to him; much like Christine, yet completely different. Meg was nobody else, but her own. _"Like myself."_ He realized.

Lost in her freeing presence, he lifted his hand and traced her face slowly.

Meg stopped smiling and closed her eyes to his touch.

As his finger slid under her chin, he pulled her closer to him, leaning in and placing a kiss to her forehead.

Meg opened her eyes and met his gaze. They were face to face, the heat of their breath mingling in the space between them.

The sound of keys at the door made them look quickly in that direction then back at each other.

Meg grabbed Raoul's face between her hands and threw all caution to the wind. She kissed him on the lips impulsively then released him in a flash as her mother stepped through the door. With her cheeks flushed, she stood up and brushed at her dress.

Raoul sat in the settee, mouth slightly parted, stupefied.

"Welcome home, Maman!" Meg called to her, a bit too quickly.

Madame Giry raised an eyebrow at her daughter as she saw the young Vicomte seated on the settee. She tapped her cane to wake the man from his inadvertence.

Raoul flinched and stood up. "Nothing, Madame!" Raoul blurted, and then shut his mouth tightly, cursing his idiocy.

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur?" Madame Giry walked towards them imposingly.

"Maman, Raoul was just here to tell me of the opera's reconstruction plans. He was just about to leave." Meg grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him to the door.

"Yes, I... must be… on my way. My apologies, for… I... cannot stay, Madame..." Raoul tried to address Madame Giry, unsuccessfully, as Meg was scooting him out of the front door.

"Good day, Monsieur Vicomte." Madame Giry said resolutely.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
The "Delacroix" name was formatted from my previous idea of "de Lacroix" but it bordered too much similarity to Raoul's "de Chagny" so I changed it. I don't own any specific originality rights to the name, just thought I'd add that little tidbit of info on how I came to use it. Alucard's Secret Lover mentioned to me that someone else has used the Delacroix name for their fan fic, so I am just making sure I mention how I came about using it in mine. I am not trying to steal anyone's ideas at all. So thought I'd make that clear. -smiles- 

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own anything related to Marivaux or his play "The Game of Love and Chance." Brilliant French Classic play I must say! I suggest seeing it, if it ever comes to a theatre house near you. Thanks to Marivaux for entertaining us! I also still do not own anything related to "The Phantom of the Opera." All credit goes to those I mentioned in the "Disclaimer" in Chapter 1. -hugs-


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**

As Christine made her descent through Erik's passageway on the Rue Scribe side, she thought back on her afternoon with Meg. It had gone fairly well in the end. The incident with Raoul had been unexpected, but Christine was glad he seemed well even after everything they had been through. Perhaps Meg was the reason why he was in better spirits. Meg always had a way with people. Her carefree nature had always been so refreshing. "_God bless Meg for being there for Raoul,_" Christine thought as she smiled.

Making her way to her bedroom, Christine flung her shoes off and sank into the swan bed with a sigh. She was happy to be back. Even though Erik was not home yet, his presence was felt amongst the things in his lair. It comforted her. Christine stretched out and was relieved to be able to relax her feet. "No harm in taking a light nap," she yawned. Turning on her side, she cuddled up against the crimson sheets and closed her eyes.

* * *

Exiting the carriage, Nadir and Erik stood outside of the Rue Scribe side and discussed a few more details for the night's events. 

"Exactly as I've specified… alright, Nadir? Of all the things I have ever asked of you, my friend, please see to it that this goes without fail," Erik said intensely.

Nadir grabbed Erik firmly by the shoulders and promised, "It will be done. You need not doubt me. I will come through for you, Erik."

He looked Nadir directly in the eyes and nodded in approval. "You are a good man, Daroga."

Erik gathered a parcel from inside the carriage before exchanging goodbyes with Nadir, and then disappeared into the passageway.

Nadir stepped into the carriage to set the remaining tasks in motion. _"For once in your miserable life, I do believe that fate has finally turned in your favor." _Nadir thought back on the turbulent times he shared with Erik in Persia. "_I know of no one else more deserving of happiness than you, my friend. _A smile crept on his face with his final thought. _"I refuse to ever say that to your face or else I'll never be able to have my fun with you, Erik. You are the only one to give this old dog some entertainment,"_ Nadir chuckled out loud as the carriage drove off across town.

* * *

Erik immediately sensed Christine's presence. Her scent always lingered wherever she went. He smiled and placed his parcel on the bench of his organ. He walked over to Christine's bedroom and knocked on the door. 

Christine stirred at the gentle rapping at her door. "Erik? Is that you, mon amour?"

Erik opened the door and walked over to her smiling. He sat next to her sweeping his arms around her. "I've missed you, bel ange."

Christine snuggled against him and sighed with contentment. "I missed you as well, Angel."

They sat in bed awhile as Christine recalled her day with Meg. Erik was slightly unnerved to hear about Raoul showing up, but nothing could dampen his mood for the events to come. He closed his eyes and smiled at the thought.

"Erik? Did you hear what I said?" Christine tugged on his sleeve.

"Sorry, mon ange. What did you say?" Erik said as he ran his fingers through her curls.

"Well, I just asked how your day went with Nadir. What business did you have to attend to? Christine asked curiously.

"Merely business, Christine. Nothing exciting. It would bore you to hear of it and besides, I have something for you." Erik grinned mischievously.

Christine's face lit up with excitement. "What do you have for me, Erik? What is it?" She asked with anticipation.

"Come with me, Christine." Erik stood up and held out his hand.

Christine took it as they made their way out into the main room.

Erik brought Christine before the organ and she saw the parcel on the bench. He handed it to her and she began to tear at the packaging. She looked like a child on Christmas morning, wide-eyed with enthusiasm. As she reached inside she felt something soft and was intrigued. Pulling it out from its wrapping she revealed a magenta hooded cloak, made of lush velvet with a shimmering white satin lining.

"Erik, it is beautiful, but I don't understand." Christine said curiously as she wrapped it around her, twirling in a circle.

"I do not wish for you to catch a chill tonight when we dine and you needed that to match my other surprise." Erik smiled innocently.

Christine's eyes grew wide again as she ran into his arms. He laughed while she begged to know what her second surprise was.

They walked hand in hand, back into her bedroom, stopping in front of the armoire. She watched him curiously as he opened the dresser and ran his hands along the back paneling. With a click the backing gave way and he reached inside.

Christine tried her best to get a glance at whatever it was Erik was retrieving.

"Close your eyes." Erik said playfully.

"Do I have to, Erik? What is it?" She asked impatiently.

"Close your eyes and you shall find out, Christine," he said, teasing her.

"Fine, they're closed." She said childishly, pouting her lower lip.

"No peeking, mon ange," he said as he gave her a quick kiss. He couldn't resist her adorable display of stubbornness.

He had hidden a dress for her months ago in hopes she would wear it during one of her stage performances. It was by sheer coincidence that it happened to be perfect for her to wear tonight. He uncovered the dress and displayed it across the swan bed.

"Now, you may open your eyes, bel ange."

Christine opened her eyes and was taken aback by the sight before her. It was an exquisite shimmering pale pink satin gown with delicate lace in the middle that traveled down and fanned out from the waist. Magenta bows adorned the front, holding the lace in sweeping patterns across the front. She picked it up and noticed how light and soft the entire ensemble was. She turned it around and noticed the ruby colored buttons along the back were shaped like roses. At the bottom was more lace that swept up into a larger magenta bow that ran up the backside of the gown. She noticed the intricate rose designs embroidered in golden thread, which hemmed the dress.

She walked to her vanity and held the gown against her. As she viewed her image in the mirror, she couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes.

Erik walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her right shoulder and gazed at her reflected image. "Do you like it, Christine?" He asked, kissing her just below the ear.

"I love it, Erik! It is beautiful!" She said in awe. She turned to kiss him and he quickly grabbed her hand and placed a kiss upon it.

"Can you be ready in an hour, Christine? We shall dine under the starlit sky tonight." Erik said methodically.

"Where are we going for dinner, Erik?" she asked curiously.

"If I told you, then it wouldn't be much of an adventure, now would it, mon ange?" Erik bowed gracefully and walked toward the bedroom door. "One hour, Mademoiselle and then I'll come to take you away into the night," he said mysteriously, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Erik dressed in his usual black attire, but instead of a black cravat, he wore a ruby colored one. He chose a silver vest with intricate gold embroidery patterned into various blooming roses. _"How appropriate,"_ he thought, as he inspected himself one last time in his mirror, making sure everything was in place. 

He walked to his dresser to retrieve a tiny gold pin, shaped like an angel. Walking back to the mirror, he pinned it in place, straightened his jacket, and then reached for his cloak. Tying it around him securely, he stood tall before the mirror. He noted he was extremely handsome. If not for the mask upon his face, which kept him from being like any ordinary person, people would think he was a noble.

Reaching for his fedora, he placed it upon his head with flair, grinning back at his mirrored double. In one swift motion, he whirled his cape around him and exited his bedroom in grand fashion.

* * *

Christine decided to leave her hair down after contemplating putting it up. She knew how much Erik loved her long curls loose, free about her. There was one thing she needed done in order to be ready. On that thought, Erik appeared at her door with her hooded cloak draped against his arm. 

Erik was almost speechless as he took in her angelic sight. "Are you ready, ange céleste?" He bowed.

"I am, but… Erik can you finish the last few buttons for me?" She asked hesitantly.

Erik walked over to her and spun her around slowly until her back was before him. He carefully fastened the last few buttons she had not been able to reach. He turned her slowly to face him as he kissed her forehead then wrapped her cloak around her.

She was a blossom in bloom before his eyes. The colors highlighted every feature magnificently. She was a living work of art.

"Shall we, bel ange?" Erik asked as he offered her his arm. "Oui, Monsieur." She blushed.

* * *

The sun was setting and giving way to the night's sky as Erik and Christine were met by Nadir outside of the Rue Scribe passageway. Nadir was dressed in a colorful Persian tunic and jeweled turban. Christine guessed it to be formal attire from his homeland. The neigh of the horses took her eyes off of Nadir's unusual clothing and she noticed two majestic white horses harnessed against a barouche carriage. It had a leather-folding hood and was usually only used by members of nobility. 

"Don't worry, mon ange, I will return them to le Vicomte before he notices." Erik winked.

Christine slapped him on the arm, "I _hope_ you're kidding!" She said, pulling down his fedora further to cover his right side of his face.

Erik nodded appreciative at her gesture of securing his identity. With the partial dome of the carriage, it would provide added security from curious eyes while still in town. Once out of the city, they would be able to lower it and enjoy the country atmosphere.

Nadir opened the carriage door to Erik and Christine and they climbed in. The seats were lined in blood red velvet.

Christine couldn't remember when she sat in a carriage as sinfully comfortable as this one was.

Nadir looked back at both of them to make sure they were seated and ready.

Erik looked at Nadir and nodded.

Clicking his tongue, Nadir maneuvered the horses down the road.

As they reached the countryside, Nadir stopped the carriage to lower its half hood at Erik's request. Resuming their journey into the night they took in the panoramic blanket of stars. Erik put his arm around Christine and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I had no idea they had restaurants this far from the city or are we to picnic somewhere out here, Angel?" She looked up at him.

"My curious little kitten, you will find out soon enough. Just relax and enjoy the scenery around you, mon chéri." Erik leaned his head back and told Christine to do the same.

Before she was about to question why, she saw a star shoot across the sky and she gasped slightly in surprise.

Erik smiled at her wonderment, as they enjoyed their heavenly backdrop. He decided to pass the time pointing out various constellations and sharing their mythological history with Christine.

"Is there a star for music, Erik?" She asked him.

Erik looked into the sky. "I cannot see it right now, but yes, there is a particular star called Lyra that epitomizes music. It is meant to represent the lyre. In Greek mythology, Hermes is said to have invented the lyre when he was only a child. He then passed the lyre to his half brother Apollo who is the God of Music," Erik said eloquently.

"One day, maybe we could be stars in the sky, Angel. I want to be with you forever like they are up there," Christine pointed out into the night sky.

"_I hope you truly mean that, Christine."_ Erik thought as they neared their destination.

Miles from Paris, Christine looked around her seeing nothing but a faint light in the distance. "Erik, I smell roses."

The closer the carriage drew to the main gate the stronger the scent had become. "What is this place, Erik?" Christine asked overwhelmed by the beautiful bouquet that filled her senses.

Erik took her hand and kissed it. Looking into her eyes he said lovingly, "This place, mon ange, is ours."

Christine searched his face in disbelief. "Erik?" She questioned.

He looked at her unblinking and smiled. "Welcome home, Christine."

* * *

**Author's Note**  
And so it begins my lovely readers! Fluff-a-Plenty to come! -cheers- This chapter is dedicated to all my readers that have stuck around and are still enjoying this little story about nothing (hehe I watch too much Seinfeld). I could always call this, "The Young & the Phantomless" -giggles- Pertie? Are you laughing at me yet? -hugs- I love you all! Erik kisses galore to everyone! -smiles- 


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note**  
I'm adding this author's note to the top in honor of Charles Hart. His beautiful composition of Music of the Night has been a true inspiration for this chapter.

Dear Mr. Hart, I've changed your lyrics to fit my story, but only for that purpose and I am not making any financial gain from this or my story. I fully acknowledge the credit goes to you, Sir Lloyd Webber, and Leroux. Thanks for giving us the musical score for The Phantom of the Opera!

Now, with that said, to my faithful readers, you will see why I give the amazing Charles Hart credit. -bows to the master-

**CHAPTER 27 **

La Maison de Roses was a fairytale home come to life. Something so picturesque only existed in books. Christine was eager to tour this majestic dreamland that was now hers to share with her Angel of Music.

As the carriage pulled to the front of the estate, they were greeted by a stout man with a heavy moustache. Christine surmised that he was not much older than Erik.

"Welcome home, Monsieur Delacroix and Mademoiselle Daae!" The man said cheerfully, opening the carriage door. He bowed and offered his hand to Christine.

She smiled at him then carefully descended from the vehicle.

Erik followed behind her and placed a firm hand on the man's shoulder. "Nicolas, was everything prepared as instructed?"

The man straightened his posture before his master and nodded. "Oui, Monsieur Delacroix. Everything you requested has been seen to."

Erik smiled at his butler. "Splendid! Mademoiselle Daae and I will be out on the terrace. Please have Adele and Josette serve us at the specified hour."

The butler nodded, and Erik and Christine disappeared through the front door of their home.

Walking out onto the stone terrace, Christine noticed the cozy setting before her. Two gold candelabras stood tall accenting an intimate table with a beautiful setting for two of bone white china with gold leaf designs.

Erik gracefully seated Christine before seating himself. They spoke of the estate and of his mysterious surname.

"Delacroix? I thought you didn't recall your surname, Erik?" Christine asked intrigued.

"It comes as a bit of a surprise myself, mon ange. I've had someone close to me working on my background for some time now and he's only been able to gain knowledge of my surname. Nothing more." Erik said, rubbing his fingers across Christine's hand nervously.

She thought it best not to pry too much into his personal affairs. As much as she wanted to know more about him, she would wait until he felt the need to give her more information. It pained her to see the hurt in his eyes when he had told her about his youth. The evening was perfection and she didn't want to ruin such a magical night.

As they sipped a light red wine, they were served an exceptional culinary course made up of Parisian Brochettes, Soufflé au Fromage, Emince de Volaille sauce Roquefort, and a Saint Honore Cake.

After dinner, Erik gave Christine a tour of the grand salons and ballroom. All three of the rooms were glorious, but the one she favored most of all was La Beauté de Musique. It reminded her so much of her Erik.

The mural on the walls depicted a scene of a forest and streams, scattered wild flowers, and finishing the masterpiece was the Greek God Pan. He was half human and half beast. Pan was fond of music and had invented the syrinx, which he played so masterfully.

Catching her eye, Christine walked up to the beautiful rosewood grand piano that was polished to such a high shine that she could see her reflection in its finish. There were inlaid carvings of leaves on both sides of the case and the legs finished into lion's paw feet. It was an instrument of unsurpassed beauty.

"Play something for me, Erik?" Christine requested.

"I was hoping you would ask, but only if you would accompany me, mon ange?" Erik replied.

"I would love to! What will you play?" she asked.

"Let me start and it will come to you, Christine." Erik smiled at her as he took a seat at his bench.

Christine walked up behind him and rested her hands upon his shoulders. He took in a deep breath relishing in her touch then began to stroke the keys with effortless abandon. She recognized the tune immediately. It was one of Erik's songs that he loved to sing with her. She closed her eyes and let the music fill her as she sang. When Erik joined her, their voices rose to such heights that surely the heavens must have wept. When they sang together, they created more than just music.

As the song came to an end, Erik got up from the bench and pulled Christine close to him, kissing her passionately. Christine was left breathless under his enchantment, as they parted.

"Come with me, mon ange." Erik took Christine by the hand and led her out of the salon.

He guided her through the estate and up the stairs into the East Wing.

"Are you bringing me to my room, Erik?" She asked. _"It's a bit early to end the evening now,"_ she thought.

"Non. I wish to show you something." He smiled back at her then brought her inside the Master Suite.

Erik stopped in front of an oddly familiar mirror at the far end of the room.

"That's not what I think it is, is it Erik?" Christine asked curiously.

"Since the opera house is under construction, I figured they would not miss this," Erik caressed the border of the mirror and continued, "besides, it _is_ what brought you to me, so I find myself sentimentally attached," he grinned.

Christine couldn't believe he was able to get that mirror from her old dressing room at the opera house and bring it up here to the estate without fail. _"But for what purpose?"_ She wondered.

As if reading Christine's mind, Erik pushed the mirror aside and revealed a staircase that spiraled along the inside of the wall.

"Here, your journey begins, my fairytale princess." Erik took Christine's hand and kissed it.

She looked at him perplexed.

"Do you trust me, Christine?" He looked at her intently.

She nodded, not being able to form any words.

"Go up and find what I hope is your destiny."

The mirror slid back into place as Christine stepped forward into the tower. She turned around and noticed she was alone.

"Erik? Where are you?" she asked, in a slight panic.

"Shhhh… don't be afraid, mon ange. I am with you." Erik whispered into her ear.

Christine knew he was throwing his voice as she slowly walked up the stairs, but it didn't matter. Even though he was not physically with her, his voice always calmed her. With each step her heart raced. She wasn't sure what to expect. She was excited yet uneasy at the same time. She looked ahead of her and could see an open window with the moonlight shining through it. The closer she got, the smell of roses filled her senses.

As she made it to the top she noticed a single blood red rose with Erik's trademark black ribbon tied around it. She picked it up and looked outside of the window. The view was spectacular. The moon was bright as it lit up the various colors of the roses in the garden below her. She sat upon the windowsill and looked back at the rose in her hand. Bringing it up to her nose, she inhaled the delicate fragrance, closing her eyes and abandoning her senses to it. As if in a dream, she heard him, her Angel of Music.

Erik sang in a whisper:

_I have brought you  
to this tower  
to ask of you . . .  
share my kingdom  
and love I'll give  
freely with music . . .  
music . . ._

Christine stood up and looked around. She was still alone. "Erik?" she called into the night.

Erik answered in another whisper:

_You have come here,  
for one purpose,  
and one alone . . .  
Since the moment  
You came back to me,  
I have needed  
to ask you,  
to guide me, to be,  
my life's music . . .  
love's music . . ._

The song was familiar to Christine, yet the words were different. "Erik? Where are you? She asked, but then heard his voice coming from beyond the window. She looked down across the garden, but could see nothing but the roses before her.

Erik shifted his tone as he sang seductively:

_Night-time sharpens,  
heightens this sensation . . .  
Passion stirs and  
wakes my declaration . . .  
Silently your senses  
give in to my intentions . . ._

Christine began to shiver under his alluring voice. She stood in the tower mesmerized, clutching the rose to her breast. She felt a breeze against her body and as she turned, like magic, he appeared before her. In one graceful movement, he whirled his cape off of himself and transferred it onto Christine's delicate shoulders to keep her warm.

Gazing into Christine's eyes Erik continued his confession of love.

_Slowly, gently  
the bloom unfurls its splendor . . ._

Erik covered his hand over Christine's and brought the rose between them. She focused on the rose and he nodded at her, as he proceeded to sing.

_For you, my life -  
and love I will surrender . . .  
Tell me you will stay,  
That you'll wake with me each day,  
give your heart and soul away  
to me tonight, I love you -  
please say yes  
and be my wife . . ._

The light of the moon danced across the rose as she realized its tiny secret. Christine pushed back the petals carefully with her finger and retrieved its treasure. Tears flooded her eyes at closer inspection of the jewel. It was the rose shaped ring she had been captivated by.

Erik stepped back and drew in a breath as his voice became stronger within the music.

_Marry me,  
and surrender to your  
wildest dreams!  
I shall love you  
like you've always dreamed before!  
Joined as one,  
let our love  
begin to soar!  
And we'll live  
as we've never  
lived before . . ._

Erik moved closer to her and brushed away her tears upon her face.

_Softly, deftly,  
My love will surround you . . .  
My soul, I'll bare  
for you I give my life to . . .  
Open up your mind,  
be my wife and we shall find,  
that together we can love  
in paradise -  
I promise you  
my Angel of the night . . ._

Erik held Christine tenderly within his arms. She looked up at him with her eyes still swimming in tears of happiness. Erik took her hands in his and sang his love's plea with raw emotion.

_Just say yes  
and we'll journey  
in sweet music's world!  
Let me love you  
as a man  
like none before!  
Let our hearts  
Take us where we  
long to be!  
Destined souls  
in God's eternity . . ._

Falling to his knees, her hands still securely within his, he gazed into her eyes with utmost adoration.

_Christine, darling,  
I pledge my love with this ring!  
Hold me, love me  
make my life worth living!  
Let the dream begin,  
let my love fill you within  
with my heart which beats with love for you tonight -  
I've always loved you Angel of the night . . ._

Christine's tears washed over her. She fell to her knees beside him looking into his eyes intently. Erik raised his hands to her face and traced it with his fingers, finishing his proposal.

_You alone can make my song take flight -  
say yes before the man you see tonight . . ._

_

* * *

_  
**Author's Note x2**  
This is for all the my readers! I hope it was not too disappointing or too fluffy. There is more to this in the next chapter... he's not done yet. -wink- You all have been really phantastic to me thus far and with every review and reader I pick up, I am still very humbled to all of your kind words and support. I bow before you all for your overwhelming kindness. -HUGS- To: Poetzproblem, since you do not have a posted email, I couldn't send you a personal thank you. Your review was beautiful! I present you with Erik's Trademark Rose and dedicate the next chapter in your honor. Your writing has been inspiring. I'm a fan of your fics. -smiles-


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28**

The light of the moon was like a spotlight on the two lovers in the tower. Erik had sung his last note and Christine was incredibly caught up in the moment and couldn't speak a word. They were kneeling before each other, both in complete adoration. Erik held her face in his hands, searching for a sign. All he could make out was Christine's tears that came tumbling down her face as she tried to speak, but nothing came out. Feeling he would collapse at any moment, Erik took in a breath and gathered every bit of strength he had and spoke.

"Christine, listen to me now, mon amour. The day you came to the opera house was the day my life began. It was through you that I felt whole. In loving you, I felt I could truly live like any other person." Erik stood, bringing Christine up with him.

Looking deeply into her eyes, he continued, "You have been the light in my never-ending world of darkness. You have come to me from the heavens above to be my salvation and I am so unworthy of you," his voice broke with emotion as he fell to his knees once more, holding her hands within his and looking up at her with pleading eyes, "yet I will not be able to survive without you." He kissed the inside of her palms, cherishing them. "You have given this broken man a chance to live and I wish to live this life with you forever, if you will have me, mon ange."

Erik slowly brought himself up to stand before her and gazed intently into her brown eyes desperately. "To simply say I love you will never be enough to express just how much you mean to me. All I have to offer you is myself." Erik brought his right hand up and slowly removed the mask upon his face. "I am Erik and everything I am is yours." He drew in a shuddering breath, as he could no longer hold back his tears. His soul now lay bare before her, his voice belying the trembling terror within his heart, "Marry me, Christine Daae and I promise to spend the rest of my days protecting you, honoring you, and loving you with everything in me." Erik closed his eyes trying to calm his anxiety.

Christine touched the right side of her Angel's face with so much love and compassion. With that one caress of his unseen beauty, she found the strength within to answer him in the only way she could.

"Father once spoke of an angel . . . Now that you're here from above . . . Here as I sing, I shall answer . . .Yes, I will, my love . . ." On her last note, she smiled then said in a solemn whisper, "Erik, my Angel of Music, I would love nothing more than to be your wife, now and into eternity."

Disbelief gave way to an overwhelming euphoria as Erik lifted her off her feet and spun her around. "I will not disappoint you, my bride!"

Their lips met and they kissed each other with blissful passion.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Christine proceeded to place tiny kisses all over Erik's face, paying more attention to his right side. His marred side always held more sensitivity than any other part of his body and he wasn't used to this much contact, but she was being gentle with her feather light kisses. Erik found it soothing to his skin.

"Come, Christine. The night is still ours." Erik smiled.

He held onto her hand as they descended the spiral staircase of the tower. Reaching the bottom, Erik pushed a small stone block that opened the doorway leading into the rose garden.

As they stepped out into the garden, a faint sound could be heard, rising with the sweet scent of the blossoms.

"Erik, I hear music. Am I imagining this?" Christine questioned.

Erik led her among the sea of roses as the music grew with every step they took. "You are perfectly sane, my bride. What you hear are harps, for you are my angel as I am yours. They play for us tonight. It is Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." All my life I had dared to dream of something I thought would never come true, but it has, mon ange, for you have given yourself freely to this man's desiring and now this gift I give to you."

Making their way to a small path she could see flickering lights near the river. As they got closer, Christine drew in a surprised breath at the sight before her. Several candelabras partially encompassing a wooden gazebo, which had carvings of cherubs painted in gold. Madame Giry stood inside with Meg as well as Nadir. There were four musicians playing across from them and in the middle of it all was a priest. Completely overwhelmed by everything that had come to pass that evening, Christine began to cry again.

Meg ran up to Christine and hugged her. "Oh, Christine, I am so happy for you! This place, this whole affair is so much like the fairytales we used to tell each other at the opera house. I cannot believe you are getting married. It is like a beautiful dream!"

Meg began to cry with Christine as Madame Giry walked up to them and placed her arms around both girls. "Shhhh… It is alright to cry such tears of joy, but we must not spend all night doing so." As she tried to comfort them, Madame Giry found herself crying too.

As the women lost themselves in their tears, Erik walked over to Nadir and extended his hand. "I am amazed you were able to pull it all off exactly as I requested, Nadir. Your talents, although _questionable_ at times, really do serve you well."

Nadir patted Erik on the back and replied, "Well, I have to say I am impressed, old boy. You surely _know_ how to make women cry."

They looked over at the women and then to each other and had a boisterous laugh.

Coughing to get everyone's attention, Father Rémy addressed, "I beg your pardon, but there is to be a wedding, no?" The old man smiled.

Madame Giry wiped at her tears with her handkerchief as Erik and Nadir offered theirs to the girls.

"I need a moment with my fiancé, Father, and then we can begin." Erik said as he took Christine aside.

"Whenever you are ready, my son," answered the priest.

Kissing Christine on her forehead, Erik began, "Mon ange, I cannot give you a traditional wedding, since I have never had much of a religious upbringing. This man here is a Catholic priest and it is the best I can offer you, Christine, on behalf of your faith. Father Rémy will allow me to say my own vows and will marry us even though the circumstances do not meet the proper guidelines of the Catholic Church. I have given him a favorable Church donation and he assures me everything will be binding in the eyes of God." He brushed a tear from the corner of Christine's right eye, saying, "Do you still wish to marry me, bel ange?"

Christine looked into Erik's eyes and smiled. "I don't think I can wait any longer, Erik. Please make me your wife."

Erik's heart soared as he smiled back at her and took her by the hand. "Let us be wed then!" He turned to the priest and said, "We are ready now, Father."

Father Rémy asked everyone to take their places. As the priest asked who would be giving Christine's hand away, Madame Giry spoke up and he nodded to her. He said a few prayers in Latin as Christine followed, quietly mimicking the words, and then he blessed the couple with holy water.

"Erik, you may say your vows now," Father Rémy said.

Nodding to the priest, Erik turned to face Christine and held her hands within his. "From this day to the next until my last dying breath, I will honor and cherish you, no matter what life may bring us. I have found heaven on earth with you and I will love you beyond God's eternity when he chooses to take me from this world. My love for you is everlasting and I wish to share it with you for the rest of our lives. Christine Elisabet Daae, I ask with utmost devotion, will you be mine?"

Christine kissed his hands and answered, "I will."

Father Rémy looked to Christine and asked if she would be giving the traditional wedding vows to Erik. She asked if she could say her own vows as well. The priest nodded and told her to proceed as she wished.

Looking into Erik's sea-green eyes Christine began, "You gave me wings so I could fly; musical wings to make my voice reach heaven above. With your music you gave me love and it has filled me with such peace and happiness. My father promised me the Angel of Music and here you stand before me. You say I am your savior, but truly you are mine, for all I ever prayed for was you and now you are here with me, offering your love and I accept it whole-heartedly. Erik Delacroix, my Angel of Music, give me your hand in marriage and I shall spend the rest of my life loving you as much as you love me. Will you have me?

Erik traced her face with both his hands and answered, "I cease to exist without you, mon ange. I am humbly yours always. I will."

Madame Giry and Meg wept silently in the corner as Christine and Erik exchanged their vows of love.

Nadir stood tall. He was proud to be a part of his old friend's happiness. A few tears escaped the Persian as he quickly brushed them aside, hoping no one saw him.

Father Rémy said another prayer in Latin before motioning the couple with the sign of the cross. "I now pronounce you both, under the eyes of God, husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," the priest smiled.

Erik and Christine looked at each other with renewed hope. They had a future to look to now, together. Their lips met and they kissed with such raw emotion, their tears mingling upon each other's face. They were truly soul mates and now they were bound together for eternity.

Father Rémy motioned to the harpists as he said officially, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Monsieur and Madame Delacroix!"

The harps began to play Telemann's "Viola Concerto in G," as everyone began to clap and gather around the newlyweds.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Ok, I'm a Catholic, though not avid. Nevertheless, I think it went alright, given the timeframe of those days and the obscene donation Erik probably donated. -giggles- Besides, traditional weddings can be super long, and well, we all know Erik doesn't have that kind of patience. -wink- I gave Christine a middle name. "Elisabet" is Swedish for Elizabeth, meaning "Devoted to God." Very appropriate, no? -smiles- It may or may not have been used before in other author fan fics, but just letting my readers know I use it for my own personal liking of the name. Thanks for all the lovely reviews for my rendition of the great Charles Hart's "Music of the Night." I am truly overjoyed by everyone's responses. -bows- To those that cried during Erik's proposal, he sends you all "swirling cape intimate hugs." -swoons- 

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights to Telemann or his composition of "Viola Concerto in G." The same disclaimer applies to Bach and his composition of "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." Both of these classical artists will forever be immortalized in their music.


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER 29**

Raoul sat in his study clearing the last few documents from his desk. He didn't think it would be possible to ever catch up. He had neglected a lot of his usual duties as of late. There was just too much for him to think about, let alone mundane business matters. He thought back on Meg and that hurried kiss she had given him. She had kissed him briefly before, but this time was different. Raoul touched a finger to his lip. _"Her lips were warm and soft."_

Raoul had wanted to kiss her, but thoughts of Christine riddled him with guilt. _"Perhaps I need a change of scenery,"_ he thought, raising the last piece of business to read it. In his hand was a letter from the Navy regarding a new project to break ground in Montpellier, by the Mediterranean. Raoul rubbed his chin then reclined in his leather chair to think. _"I will visit with Meg and then make arrangements to journey to Montpellier. It will be my new future,"_ he thought yawning.

Making his way toward his room, Raoul began his ascent upstairs, to get a well-deserved night's sleep. He wanted to be in top form for the day ahead of him. He stood by his bed undoing his shirt when Philippe came barging in rudely.

"Brother! Please _assure_ me that you were not with that half-wit ballet girl this evening!" Philippe breathed out heavily.

"Good of you to _knock_, Philippe. I take it you are in _good _spirits?" Raoul mocked.

Philippe paced the room shaking his head. "Do you _know_ what I had to endure tonight because of you? First of all, you did not show up to the banquet for Lord and Lady Wensley, so I had to come up with some menial explanation on _your _behalf. But the _worst_ part of the evening was to overhear the gossip among the guests! My _God_, it was excruciating. You know they say you are purposely disgracing our family and philandering about town between those _scarlet_ women!"

Raoul felt as if his head was going to explode. He didn't want to hear anymore about obtuse socialites and their ideas of propriety. "For _Christ's_ sake, Philippe! Do you even _stop_ to hear what comes out of that _mephitic_ mouth of yours? I could care _less_ what people think. I _know_ the truth. That's _all_ that matters!"

Philippe couldn't believe his brothers audacity toward him. "You may not care about _me _or of _our_ father, but Raoul, _mother_ was devastated!"

Raoul thought for a moment. Had he been selfish in failing to consider his mother's feelings? _"Mother always encouraged me to be a good man and to be true to myself. Surely rumors would not make her think less of me, would they?"_ He thought.

"It _appears_ I have struck a nerve. Good! You always _were _mother's favorite, so try and remember that what _you_ do affects _her_ as much as our family. I will do _whatever_ it takes to prevent this tomfoolery, brother. I will _not_ stand for this any further. Do you understand me, Raoul?"

Raoul rushed up to Philippe. "Is that a _threat_, brother? If it is, I am _not_ amused in the slightest. I make my _own_ decisions and I will not have _you _or anyone else _dictate_ my affairs, do _I _make myself clear, Philippe?

The two siblings eyed each other dangerously. Philippe pushed Raoul aside and walked toward the door to exit, but not before adding, "You just _remember_ who took care of you when we were younger. You didn't know better then and you _certainly_ don't know _any_ better now!" Philippe slammed the door.

Raoul hated being treated like a child by his brother. He never saw him for the man he had become. Philippe always thought of him as that timid boy incapable of defending himself. Infuriated, Raoul punched the bedroom wall.

Jacques came flying up the stairs and nervously rapped at his master's door. "Monsieur Vicomte? Are you alright? May I enter?" Jacques knew that Philippe's unannounced visit would not be a pleasant one. Philippe's demeanor was on edge and he knew Raoul did not seem too close with Philippe since his return from the Navy. He opened the door slightly and peered inside.

"Monsieur Vicomte?" he questioned. Scanning the room he saw a hole in the wall and in the corner sat a crumpled Raoul holding his hand carefully.

"Mon dieu! What's happened? Did le Comte do this?" Jacques asked as he crouched beside his master in worry.

"Non. I did this," Raoul sighed. "I know I shouldn't do such things, but I fear my brother brings out the worst in me."

Raoul tried to get up from the floor, wincing as he moved his right hand.

Jacques noticed that the skin around Raoul's hand was turning a shade of purple and that the hand itself seemed to sit at an unnatural angle.

Observing the look on his butler's face, Raoul requested, "Jacques, I need you to fetch the doctor for me. I do believe it is broken."

Jacques finished helping Raoul to the bed, making sure he was comfortable. "I shall send for the doctor now. Try to relax, Monsieur Vicomte," Jacques assured, then swiftly departed the room.

* * *

Dr. Gilles attended to Raoul's injury. He had been the de Chagny family doctor for years and he would have never guessed of such a thing happening to such a sweet-tempered young man. _"Whatever had happened to cause such self-inflicting destruction surely must have been exasperating," _he thought. 

"I will instruct Jacques on the medication you are to take when in pain or if you cannot sleep, Vicomte. I will come and check on you in two weeks or should you need me sooner, have a messenger send word and I shall be here," the doctor expressed.

Raoul nodded and thanked him for coming at such a late hour. He was embarrassed for the reason at which the visit was prompted. _"If I hit Philippe instead, then I probably would not have this painful reminder of my antics,"_ he concluded.

Needing two weeks to heal and undoubtedly a few more weeks to recover, Raoul wondered what his options would be now. He would still be mobile, but any kind of 'hands on' work would be out of the question. Raoul sighed at himself as Jacques came into the room with some tea.

"I have taken the liberty of adding your Laudanum to your tea, Monsieur. It should be easier to take then." Jacques placed the tray on the small table by the bed.

"Merci, Jacques. You have done an excellent job attending to me tonight. I appreciate it." Raoul took a sip of his tea and thought, _"I pray to have a dreamless night."_

"I am glad to have been here to assist you. Should you need anything, Monsieur, do not hesitate to ring for the attending household or me. Bonne nuit." Jacques bowed and closed the door behind him.

Raoul settled into the comfort of the bed as the effects of the Laudanum were starting to work its magic. His eyes became heavy and he willingly allowed them to surrender to unconsciousness.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Thanks to all my readers who enjoyed the wedding! All the reviews have been heartwarming. -Hugs- As a reminder, the next Chapter will be "The Wedding Night." I will have two versions posted. The cleaner of the two will be posted here. The other will be at the Adult Fan Fiction site. By no means will the chapter differ in any way other than added detail at the adult site. So, should you choose not to view it there, you will not lose any content pertaining to the story. Enjoy! 


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note**

This is "The Wedding Night." I have two versions posted. This is the cleaner of the two. The other is at Adult Fan Fiction. By no means will this chapter differ in any way other than added detail at the adult site. So, should you choose not to view it there, you will not lose any content pertaining to the story.

This chapter is **M Rated**. You've been warned. -grins-

Enjoy!

**CHAPTER 30**

The festivities following the nuptials were intimate. Everyone gathered in the Les Anges dans les Nuages salon, which was decorated in a sea of white and red roses. The staff had prepared a light tray of hors d'oeuvres, champagne, and a beautiful tiered cake, finished with edible red rose petals. At the top was an angel with a man knelt before her.

Everyone danced the night away, enjoying in the newlywed's happiness. It was obvious to them all that Erik and Christine were truly meant for each other.

The entire night's events had been so magical.

As the hour grew late, Erik and Christine saw their guests out, as the hour grew late. The couple thanked them for their unwavering support and for being witnesses to their sacred union.

"Please come and dine with us tomorrow evening. There are a few things I wish to discuss with you all," Erik requested, leaning into the door of the open carriage.

They all smiled and assured Erik that they would attend.

Christine blew kisses at her dear friends as the carriage made its way down toward the iron gates.

As the carriage disappeared beyond them, Erik looked at his radiant bride and swept her off her feet in one graceful move.

Catching her breath, she leaned against the comfort of his shoulder. "You spoil me, my husband," she blushed.

Erik's face lit up at the sound of her calling him her husband. "I shall spoil you always, my wife. He kissed her nose and carried her through the front door.

He cradled his blushing bride as he made his way up the spiral staircase of the East Wing and through the master suite, placing her upon the safety of the bed. "Do you wish to change, mon ange? You will find everything you need in here." Erik pointed to a separate changing room, stocked with the latest fashions for the both of them.

"Oui, mon amour. That would be wonderful." Christine was in awe of the endless fashion choices she had to choose from. _"It will take me a lifetime to even try all of these,"_ she thought.

"I will go downstairs to make sure Nicolas has everything prepared for the morning while you change." Erik kissed the top of her head and left her to change.

After Erik finished discussing the itinerary for the morning with Nicolas, he made his way quickly to the East Wing. Climbing the stairs in anticipation, he hummed to himself, trying to keep his nervous energy occupied.

Reaching the double-doors of the master suite, he threw them open and called out, "Christine, at last I…" Erik paused as he viewed the sight before him. His mouth opened slowly in complete amazement. Candelabras lit the room intimately, which flickered across the various colored rose petals scattered about the room--and in the middle of the midnight blue satin sheets lay a vision in white lace. "Christine? How did you…"

Interrupting him, she said, "Do not think you are the only one capable of surprises, Erik." She smiled mischievously.

The look Christine gave Erik made him cross the room in a flash.

"Wait," she said to him as he made to settle upon the bed next to her.

"What's wrong?" Erik questioned.

She got up and took his hand in hers. Bringing him in front of the mirror, she pushed it aside and walked in. "Come with me," she beckoned, holding her hand out to him.

Erik took her hand and wondered what she was up to. He was not accustomed to this role reversal, she now being the one in control of the situation.

As they ascended the tower staircase and came to the open window, there were two glasses of champagne on the windowsill and in the middle lay a white rose with a red ribbon attached. Once again, she had caught him completely by surprise. He gently held the rose, smelling its intoxicating bouquet, then noticed something within the ribbon… a simple gold band.

"It was my father's ring that was given to him by my mother. I wish for you to have it, Erik."

Freeing the ring from its binding, Christine took the ring, placing it upon Erik's finger. "I shall love no other," she spoke softly as she gazed into the deep green of his soulful eyes.

She placed one of the glasses in Erik's hand, then lifted her own and offered a toast. "To my father in heaven, in God's kingdom above, grant us forever peace and love. Thank you for giving me my Angel of Music."

"And thank you for sending Christine to me." Erik added.

They raised their glasses to the starry night and entwined their arms, consuming the sweet liquid.

Erik took the glass from her and placed both on the windowsill. Pulling Christine close and wrapping his arms around her waist, Erik looked into her eyes. "I love you, Christine."

"And I love you, Erik," she responded.

He brought his mouth down to hers and as their tongues met, he could taste the sweetness of the champagne. He began to suckle slightly on her tongue, and she did the same. As their excitement began to increase, he ran his hands all over her back, pulling at her nightgown. She loosened his shirt from his trousers and slid her hands up his chest. Erik growled with pleasure as he nipped her bottom lip gently, and in haste he ripped the back of her gown. Her eyes widened as she felt the cool air meet her exposed back. He tugged at the gown, revealing her shoulders. He glanced at her with a wicked gleam in his eyes and covered her shoulder with his mouth. His lips and tongue were warm on her cool skin as he made his way up along her neck, nuzzling it. She ran her fingers through his hair as he moved higher, lightly grazing her jawbone with his teeth and then meeting her mouth with his again, this time with more fervor. She moaned into his mouth as he slid his hands onto her breasts, lightly caressing them.

"I have wanted you for so long," Erik spoke in a guttural whisper.

"God, Erik, do not deny me any longer," Christine breathed as she became caught up in his body.

Erik lifted her into his arms and began to descend back to the comforts of their room. Christine gripped onto him, kissing his neck fervently. With every step, Erik felt it would be an eternity reaching their destination.

Christine pulled his shirt off of his shoulder, exposing his flesh to her mouth. She took to it hurriedly, her tongue and teeth pressing into him. She wanted to taste every inch of him.

Erik could barely restrain himself. "Christine, I… cannot…." He lowered her to her feet quickly and hungrily kissed her on the mouth as he steadied himself against the wall.

She ripped his shirt open, exposing his chest to her hungry mouth. She tasted his salty skin, which was heaven to her. She moved lower and covered his stomach with kisses, holding tightly to the waistband of his trousers.

His breathing became heavy as she lingered dangerously before his lower abdomen. He pulled her up and turned with her, pressing her against the cool stone wall. She gasped as it made contact with her bare skin. He kissed her intensely, pinning her completely against the wall with his pent up desire. Their tongues danced feverishly as he grasped her left leg, lifting it to rest at his side. He was on edge as he pushed against her through their layers of clothing. She whimpered as he steadied himself firmly against her. He reached for her other leg and she wrapped both securely around his waist. Securing his hold on her, he willed himself to make it to their room. Thankfully, they were not far from it.

They came through the mirror, making their way to the bed. Erik pulled Christine down with him as they fell upon the silken covers. She sat on top of him, running her palms against his sculpted chest. She moved down his stomach, fingering each ripple of toned flesh as they passed beneath her sensuous touch. He grabbed her by the arms and brought her down on him. Her breasts pressed against him as he rolled over aggressively, pinning her underneath him.

They gazed into each other's eyes, watching the shadows dance across their faces. The mood was set and there was no turning back. Only the sweetest of seductions lay before them now.

Christine reached for his mask and Erik did not flinch. She carefully peeled it away from his face, freeing him entirely to her. "I wish for you to love me completely," she whispered.

He smiled down at her and his eyes glistened with complete love for the woman before him, his wife. He slid her gown from her body, slowly exposing her inch by inch until he slipped it off from her feet and tossed it aside.

There she lay before him, bare and free for him to love her as she should be loved. His hungry gaze swept over her as he lowered his mouth to claim her breasts. She writhed with pleasure beneath him. He slid one hand down her side to her hip, grasping it firmly, his fingers burning into her skin. All too soon, his mouth left her breasts as he ran his tongue down her stomach and hip and down one of her silky thighs, stopping to kiss her knee. His hands caressed the tops of her feet and then his mouth kissed them.

"Erik," she breathed.

He began to move his hands and mouth upward along the inside of her thighs.

His slow worship of her body was driving her to the edge of insanity. She nervously parted her legs as he hovered above her. She wasn't sure what to expect. With nervous anticipation she braced herself for the unknown. She felt his breath on her and then a warmth like she had never known. She moaned with pleasure at the sensations that his tongue created within her. Just when she thought she would lose her mind, he withdrew.

Erik looked up at her as she gripped the sheets between her hands. "Tell me what it is you want, Christine," he commanded.

"I _need_ you, Erik," Christine begged.

"How, Christine? Tell me!" Erik demanded.

"I want to feel you inside of me. I want you to make love to me," she implored.

Erik moved up to rest against her frame, crushing his mouth frantically over hers as he buried his tongue deep into her mouth. He pushed his trousers down freeing his aching flesh from its confines. Her fingernails dug into his back as his heated flesh made contact against her moistened skin.

"You are _mine_, Christine. No one else shall _ever_ have you." Erik growled into her ear, seducing her to his will.

"Take me, Erik… please..." she begged deliriously.

"Tell me how much you want me, Christine," he growled again, losing his sanity at the sensation of his hardened flesh dangerously close against her.

"I want you inside me, to fill me completely. Make love to me, Erik, I am yours." She trembled underneath him, with desperate urgency.

Erik looked into her wild eyes and she met his fixed gaze. "Look at me, Christine. Keep your eyes on me and do not look away."

As she took comfort in his eyes he moved his hips, positioning himself against her innocence. "Christine…" he breathed cautiously, "I will be as careful as I can. Do you trust me, mon amour?"

Christine kept her focus on him. "Oui, as long as you hold me, Erik."

Erik cupped her face lovingly and said, "I want you to guide me… and look into my eyes… breathe deeply and hold onto me."

Christine nodded in compliance.

As Erik searched for himself within the serenity of her eyes, he slid his length into her.

They both took in a simultaneous breath as they finally coupled as one.

She held onto his back tightly as she felt this new sensation of slight pain, pleasure and fullness at once. He looked into her eyes as she took deep breaths trying to calm her body from him.

"Please hold me, Erik, for just a moment," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

Erik covered Christine tenderly with his body and held her, kissing her neck softly. He had dreamt of this moment many times before and now it was no longer just a dream. His fantasy had finally become reality. He tried to fight against his instinctive urge to push, but his resilience was fading as he listened to her breathe against him. He whispered passionately into her ear, "I love you so much." Viewing her face, he saw that her eyes were closed tightly. "Look at me, Christine." He tempted her with his soothing voice.

She opened her eyes and focused on him again.

They succumbed to each other's spellbinding gaze, as their lips met again. He moved slowly within her and she bit his lip at the sensation. He pulled back slightly, whispering, "Let it happen, mon ange. It's alright."

Hesitantly, Christine nodded.

He kissed her again, wanting to calm her from her uncertainty.

As they moved together, Erik didn't know how much longer he would last. As he picked up the pace he felt her relax, meeting with his rhythm. He gazed down at her, and her eyes were closed… her mouth was parted in complete surrender. Erik took pleasure in the emotions he saw displayed on her face. He was close as she quickened her breathing.

"Oh Erik, I feel…there's something… I don't know…" Christine gasped as she looked at him pleadingly, biting her lip.

"_This_," Erik said lustfully, stilling himself within her, "is the point of no return."

Christine looked at him with extreme yearning, licking her lips and panting as he continued to play his climactic composition within her soul. His senses heightened and took him over the edge as he became lost within their music. She moaned loudly in ecstasy as the tension within her gave way to a tide of pleasure. Erik felt her contract, making him growl possessively, calling out her name, "Christine!" He drove into her, filling her with his seed.

He kissed her blindly, finally feeling complete and she took pleasure in his kiss, feeling fully sated.

They lay together in heavenly bliss, kissing each other sweetly, and then falling asleep in each other's arms, utterly spent.


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31**

Meg pushed her food around with her fork as she thought back on the magical evening she was able to share with Christine. She thought it was extremely romantic and as she watched them exchange vows, she couldn't help but think of Raoul. The possibilities were endless, _"Especially now that Christine has finally married le fantôme!"_ Erik would always be the "Opera Ghost" to Meg. She just loved to hang on to her outrageous tales.

She let out a giggle.

"Is breakfast so amusing, chéri?" Madame Giry inquired.

Meg smiled at her mother and said, "Sorry, Maman, I was just thinking of last night. I still cannot believe Christine is married to _him_!"

Madame Giry added, "Oui, child, it is true. I have never seen two people more in love."

Thinking of love, Meg wanted to ask her mother about visiting Raoul. She felt an explanation was in order for the way she behaved with him. _"He must think me shameless!"_ She thought.

Picking up her plate and walking over to the sink, she mustered up the courage to ask. "Maman, do you think I can visit with le Vicomte today?" She braced herself for the answer.

Madame Giry was no fool. She knew her daughter was going to ask her this. Gathering her thoughts, she answered her, "Meg, it's not proper for you to visit le Vicomte at his home, especially unannounced."

Meg hadn't thought about that. "Maybe I can send word to him to have lunch at Beauvais's Bakery by the opera house?"

Madame Giry raised her tone, "Megan! What did I tell you about indulging at that bakery? You begin rehearsals again soon and you cannot be stuffing yourself with those sweets."

"They have other things to eat than just the sweets, Maman. You can simply tell me yes or no and I will respect your wishes," Meg voiced.

Madame Giry couldn't believe what she was hearing. Meg had actually been bold enough to stand her ground with her. Normally she would have thrown a fit and excused herself to her room. She wasn't sure about these new changes in Meg, but she knew she couldn't keep her daughter from growing up.

"If le Vicomte wishes to meet with you at the bakery, then it's fine with me, _but_do not forget we are expected at La Maison de Roses for dinner."

Meg ran up to her mother and hugged her tightly. "Oui, Maman, thank you!"

Meg kissed her and ran to her room to write a message to Raoul.

"_That is the child I know,"_ Madame Giry shook her head and smiled.

* * *

Raoul stood outside of his balcony taking in the late morning sun. As he looked across the grounds toward the gate, he could make out a rider. The rider galloped towards the front of the house and met with Jacques. After leaving his bundle of letters with Jacques, the rider took off in a flash. 

"Jacques, what news did he bring?" Raoul shouted from above.

Jacques scanned through the bundle. "It looks to be all formal... business related, Monsieur."

Raoul nodded then turned his back from Jacques.

"Monsieur Vicomte! My apologies. There is a personal message addressed to you." Jacques waved the envelope in the air.

"I'm coming down, Jacques." Raoul turned on his heel and made his way downstairs.

Retrieving the letter from Jacques, Raoul seated himself upon the steps of his front porch. Tearing the seal and removing the note, he unfolded it and read beneath the warmth of the sun.

_**Dear Raoul,**_

_**I am writing in hopes that you would like to have a bit of lunch with me at Beauvais's Bakery, by the Opera Populaire. Should you be able to attend, I will be out front at noon. I look forward to seeing you, mon ami.**_

_**Fondly,  
Meg **_

Raoul looked at his pocket watch and noticed he would need to change and head out straight away in order to make it by noon. Calling out to Jacques, he asked to have Francois ready his carriage for immediate departure.

* * *

Meg sat out front of Beauvais's Bakery enjoying some tea and reading the paper. It mentioned the estimated completion date of the opera house as well as the opening production of Marivaux's "The Game of Love and Chance." Meg placed the paper on the table and sipped her tea. _"That play will bring quite a large crowd,"_ Meg thought. 

Tapping her shoulder, Raoul made his presence known. "_Mademoiselle_ Giry, I pray I did not keep you waiting."

Meg blushed at Raoul as he bowed formally and smiled at her. "I have not been waiting long, _Monsieur_." She stressed the formal address playfully.

"What are you having, little Meg?" He asked looking at her cup.

"Just a cup of tea with a bit of honey," she answered.

"Wait here. I will bring you a treat," Raoul said as he entered the bakery.

As Raoul came out of the bakery, the owner, who was carrying a tray, followed him.

"Here we go, Mademoiselle. A fresh pot of tea, a Napoleon, Princess, and Raspberry slice--three of our specialties!"

The owner set the tray on the table and bowed as he left.

Meg's eyes widened at the large cake slices before her. "Mon dieu! I don't think I can eat all of this!"

Seating himself beside her, Raoul replied, "Well, little Meg, I was not sure which you would like best and I was hoping you would not mind _sharing_ with me," he winked at her.

As they enjoyed their sweets, Meg questioned Raoul about his heavily bandaged hand. She looked at him with sympathetic eyes as he recalled the night's events with Philippe.

"I enjoy your company, mon ami, but if our friendship is a problem…" she was interrupted.

"Do not even think it, Meg. I am a grown man and my affairs are my own," he stated genuinely.

Her cheeks colored a pale pink as he mentioned the word 'affairs.'

"There is something I have been meaning to ask…"

This time Meg interrupted him.

"I know that kiss was rather unexpected and I don't know what came over me, Raoul. I do hope you can accept my apology. I didn't mean to be so forward, I…." Meg paused and looked at Raoul.

He shook his head at her, smiling.

"Meg, I was _going_ to ask your opinion on an opportunity I have been given by the Navy."

Raoul watched as Meg flushed a red hue, embarrassed of her presumption.

Regaining her composure as best she could, Meg looked into Raoul's eyes and continued to listen to him explain this 'opportunity' he had. He told her about Montpellier and that he would be gone for about six to eight months, quite possibly up to a year.

Meg's heart sank with every detail he gave. She didn't want him to go, but she had no reason to keep him in Paris. They were only friends after all. Meg had hoped for more given time, but with him leaving for Montpellier, their relationship would never grow into something more beyond what it already was.

"Meg? Did you hear what I said?" Raoul questioned.

"Pardon moi?" Meg answered.

"I was telling you that I would not be departing until my hand was healed and that it would be an honor if you continued to grace me with your cheerful presence until then?"

Raoul anticipated her answer as he finished his cup of tea.

If she only had a few weeks to enjoy his company, then she would take it. _"It is better to have a few stolen moments to last a lifetime than to have none at all."_ Meg thought to herself as she answered him, "I am happy to be here for you while you are in Paris, mon ami," she finished with a forced smile.

Raoul was pleased to hear her words as he took her hand and kissed it. "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight? There is a new restaurant in town that I wish to survey."

Meg frowned as she declined his offer. She told him she had plans for dinner with Christine.

He inquired to which restaurant they would be dining. He offered his services to get them the best table, wait staff, and gourmet cuisines.

"Really, Raoul, that is unnecessary, Christine's staff will be more than capable of…" Meg shut her mouth as she realized she was offering too much information that was Christine's private business.

"I see. Well, I don't mean to pry or make you feel uncomfortable. It seems Christine is doing quite well for herself," Raoul said somberly.

Meg reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "You will get through this, mon ami."

Raoul looked into her bright blue eyes and smiled. Meg made it easier for him to cope with his loss of Christine. He faced each day a bit better with her support and he was thankful for it. He knew he would miss Meg's company once he was in Montpellier.

* * *

From across the road, Raoul and Meg didn't realize a very displeased Comte Philippe, shaking his head in disapproval, as he watched them.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Sorry for the short "filler" Chapter, but I needed it to begin our plot. I'm sure you all knew it was coming. We're coming toward the end of my first fic (do not worry, it's several chapters in the making yet). Philippe is a real loser! -punches him in the nose- Thanks everyone for all the fab reviews for Chapter 30. That really took awhile to write. I exhausted all my efforts, so hopefully I did not disappoint. I wanted to give special thanks to Kelli for helping me edit some parts that needed filling for the cleaner version. She's phantastic! -hugs- 

**Disclaimer**  
Once again, I do not own any rights to Marivaux or his play "The Game of Love and Chance."


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32**

Christine woke facing her husband, who was still sleeping contently. Erik seemed to have a slight smile upon his face. She propped herself up on her left elbow and rested her head in her hand, looking upon him. This was the first time she was able to view his marred side without Erik feeling uneasy.

His mask had been a part of him for so long, that he could barely go without it. Sometimes he would completely forget it was there and he would fall asleep with it on.

She hoped that with her by his side, he would learn to not be so dependant on the mask. _"In time, my love,"_ she smiled as she traced his right side with her hand lovingly.

Erik began to stir as he felt Christine's delicate fingers caressing his marred side.

With his eyes still closed he spoke. "Mon ange, _must_ you be so curious? That side of my face should hold no interest for you."

"I love this part of you as much as _any_ other part of your body, Erik, so _don't_ try and convince me otherwise." Christine said firmly, rolling on top of him and kissing the right side of his face reverently.

Erik kept his eyes closed as he relished in the affection his wife gave him. He finally had someone whom he could trust openly. He would have no need to hide his face or his body from Christine. She loved him for who he was, just a man.

"I shall not want to leave our bed if you continue to seduce me, Christine."

"I'm not trying to get you to _leave_ the bed, Erik," she said, nuzzling his neck.

Erik growled and held her tight, taking control, and turning her over. "So, you wish to _play_? I warn you, I am not known to play _fair_," he sneered teasingly then kissed her neck amorously.

Christine surrendered herself to him as he ran his hands along the sides of her body. He moved from her neck to her breasts, kissing each one tenderly. He reached her stomach and ran his long fingers against it slowly, reveling in the feel of her satin-like skin. As he bent to kiss her stomach he heard it rumble.

"I do believe you've worked up an appetite, bel ange," he said looking up to her with a grin.

Christine blushed and covered her head with a pillow in embarrassment.

Erik moved back up to her and took the pillow away. "Do not hide from me, mon amour," he said kissing her quickly on the lips. "Let's get some breakfast and then maybe I will _let_ you win our game later."

"_Let_ me win?" Christine said surprised as she tried to slap him on his arm.

Erik moved from the bed swiftly. "Perhaps, you wish to play a game of _chase_?" He grinned, donning his robe and grabbing hers from the chair.

Christine's eyes lit up as she steadied herself on the bed with a determined look on her face.

As they stared at each other in anticipation of one another's move, Christine leapt off the bed.

Erik threw Christine's robe over her head and sprinted out of the door laughing playfully as he gained a head start.

* * *

Nicolas had everything prepared out on the stone terrace as Erik specified. There was an array of fresh fruits, sweet rolls, assorted breakfast meats, and a fresh pot of tea. In the middle was a single red rose with Erik's trademark black ribbon and on one of the chairs lay a package, wrapped in golden paper. 

Christine stepped onto the terrace trying to catch her breath, and Erik peeked his head above the newspaper he was reading and smiled.

"What took you so long, mon ange?"

"You… are absolutely… terrible! I know you must… have some… shortcut around here!" She said between breaths.

Placing his paper on the table, Erik got up and held her close, kissing the top of her curls.

"Forgive me, mon amour. I shall _learn_ to play fairly with you," he grinned mischievously.

Christine steadied her breathing and closed her eyes against his chest.

The grumble of her stomach made them both laugh.

"Come. Let us take care of that demanding stomach of yours," Erik winked at her as he led her to the table.

"Erik?" Christine questioned as she saw the golden present before her.

Erik simply smiled as he picked it up and placed it on the table so that he could seat her.

He took to his seat and poured her a cup of tea. "Go ahead and open it," he assured.

Christine tore at the wrapper and lifted the top portion of the box. Hidden within, she pulled out a cherrywood finished, handcrafted music box. In the front was clear glass that displayed the scenery within the box; five miniature couples danced around a lighted ballroom to Tchaikovsky's "The Sleeping Beauty." Opening the lid of the music box, she found a beautiful gold charm bracelet with musical notes attached.

She began to cry.

"Mon ange, _please _do not cry. Though, I do hope this means you like it." Erik looked at her searching her face.

"Erik, I love it! It's so beautiful! You have given me so much in such a short time. I am just happy to be with you, mon amour. You shouldn't feel the need to shower me with gifts. All I ever wanted was your love and you have given that to me. It is the best gift I will ever receive," she said as she sniffled.

"I shower you with gifts because I _choose_ to do so, Christine. I take great pleasure in seeing you happy and knowing that it is because of me," he confirmed, picking up the bracelet and fastening it to her wrist.

He kissed her hand and sat back down.

"It's lovely, Erik. Thank you, I am _very_ happy!" She smiled at her husband.

Finishing breakfast, they took a walk in the rose garden. "Christine? Did you know that the reconstruction of the opera house is underway? It is estimated to be done in time for Bastille Jour. There is to be a gala, but even better, they will be re-opening the opera with a production of Marivaux's 'The Game of Love and Chance,'" Erik said, recalling what he read in the morning's paper.

"Erik? I am not familiar with that production. What's it about?" Christine inquired.

"This production is a romantic comedy about a female aristocrat who wants to know about her betrothed, so she decides to change places with her servant, in hopes to unmask his motives. The twist, mon ange, is that her suitor does the same thing for the same reasons, changing places with his manservant. The woman's father and brother play along making the entire production full of sensual humor, bantering, and mischievousness. The best part of the entire production is that they realize they like each other after all, but they both believe one another to be socially inferior. It's quite chaotic and complex, but terribly fun!" Erik smiled.

"I see. It sounds quite entertaining and should bring in quite a large crowd. I am sure the stage designs and the casting will be amazing. Hopefully it doesn't turn into a fiasco. I remember it was dreadful when we did the production for Hannibal. Carlotta's demands were so outrageous and poor Monsieur Reyer always seemed on the verge of a fainting spell whenever Carlotta would sing," Christine giggled.

Erik cringed at the thought of Carlotta's voice. "I was glad to send her away that day!" He grinned.

Christine squeezed his arm and laughed with him as they continued their walk back to the house.

"Are you not interested in taking the role of Silvia in the production? Perhaps you should go into town and see if Meg has more information. She seems to always know everything before it becomes public knowledge," Erik stated.

Christine thought about visiting with Meg, which seemed more exciting to her than trying out for a play that was months away from even beginning rehearsals. She dared to entertain the thought of performing, but wasn't sure how the public would receive her after the Don Juan affair.

Shaking her thoughts from that night, she replied, "I would love to see Meg!"

"I shall have the driver prepare the carriage and have it waiting out front," Erik said, rubbing her arm.

Christine turned to face Erik and kissed him voraciously, throwing him off guard.

As she blinded him under her spell, she carefully freed herself from her robe. She threw it over his head giggling, and then ran for the tower. As Erik pulled Christine's robe from the top of his head, he caught a glimpse of her naked body disappearing into the tower.

"If that is the consequence of losing a game, I shall allow her to win more often!" He grinned, knowing full well what her plan had been from the moment her lips met his so impulsively. 

**

* * *

**  
Erik escorted Christine out front to the waiting carriage. "Mon ange, do not forget to remind Annette and Meg about dinner tonight. I will send word to Nadir," Erik said as he helped her into the carriage.

"I will remember, Angel," she smiled.

"I love you, Christine. Do not be away too long or I shall worry," Erik said with care as he kissed her goodbye.

He addressed his driver and stated firmly, "I leave her in _your_ care, Victor."

Victor nodded at Erik and then took to the reins.

He watched as the carriage pulled away through the gates and then disappeared down the road.

Turning to enter the house, he sighed heavily. He missed her already.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Thanks again to my loyal readers and your wonderful reviews for my first fic. I am gonna try and get some updates in, but with the weekend, I may not be able to until Monday. I will do my best to update sooner, if possible. Thanks for being patient! -hugs- 

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights to Tchaikovsky or his composition of "The Sleeping Beauty." Nor do I own any rights to Marivaux or his play "The Game of Love and Chance."


	33. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER 33**

Meg said her goodbyes to Raoul and made her way to the Opera Populaire to see if she could get more information on Marivaux's play. She wanted to be able to break away from chorus girl to actress. She hoped to learn more about the part of Silvia's servant Lisette, so she could try out for the role. She only prayed her mother would not be too upset with her decision to abandon being a future prima ballerina. She loved ballet, but it was more of her mother's dream than her own.

Meg made her way to the makeshift office that the managers used, but found it empty. She sighed, wrinkling her face in disappointment. _"They are probably out front with the crewmen,"_ she gathered.

Curious as always, she decided to check out Christine's old dressing room.

* * *

Watching Meg take leave of his wayward brother, Philippe took it upon himself to follow Meg to the opera house. _"Time to put an end to this nonsense!"_ Philippe thought. There was no way that he would let his brother and his family fall victim to ridicule. Not after everything Christine had already done. As it were, it would be months before the gossip would settle among the upper class society. It may not have bothered Raoul, but to Philippe, who had spent the better part of his life building on the de Chagny name, it meant career suicide. He wouldn't let his brother's follies go lightly. 

He followed Meg through the charred opera house and watched as she went from the makeshift office then down the long hall to the changing area. Meg disappeared into the last door, which used to be Christine's dressing room. He remembered it quite well from when Raoul courted, _"that bitch!"_ He thought bitterly.

Making his way to the door, he cracked it open slightly and looked inside. Meg was seated at the vanity table, gesturing dramatically at her reflection in the mirror.

* * *

The carriage pulled up to the front of the opera house and as it came to a complete stop, Victor hopped down from his seat and came around to escort Christine into the building. 

She insisted that she would not be long and assured him not to worry.

He hesitantly nodded as he looked up at the burned out shell of the once opulent Opera Populaire. He couldn't argue with her. She had the face of an angel and for that reason he could not deny her wishes. He kissed her hand and she took her leave, waving back at him from the top of the stairs before she entered the building.

* * *

Philippe pushed open the door and cleared his throat. "Well, it appears that _you_, Mademoiselle, are _clearly_ losing control of your faculties." 

Meg stood up and addressed Philippe, "Oh, Monsieur Comte, you startled me. I didn't think anyone was around."

Removing his gloves and tossing them onto the ashen settee, he walked towards Meg.

"I don't know what it is that makes my brother so compelled to seek refuge in dancing girls."

Philippe now stood before Meg and brought his hand up to her face, caressing her cheek.

Meg felt very uncomfortable at Philippe's forwardness.

"Pardon me, Monsieur, but I _really_ must be going." Meg tried to move, but he grabbed her by the shoulders.

"No need to be in a hurry on _my _account. In fact, you should stay, so I can get to _know _you better," he said with a sneer.

"_Please_, Monsieur, you're hurting me," Meg said, her voice shaking.

"Come now… _you _are no different from any of the other _common_ street _whores_ that walk about these city streets. I should like to know what it is that makes my brother so smitten." Philippe forced his mouth over her neck.

Meg tried to push him away, but his strength was too overpowering. She bit down on his ear and he released his hold on her. She tried to run out of the door, but he caught her firmly by the arm.

"You will _regret_ that, you little _tease_!" He said as he held onto his ear.

The warmth of his blood seeped between his fingers. As he inspected the blood within his hand, he became enraged. Without thought, he brought his bloodied hand across her face knocking her to the ground.

The force of the blow rendered her unconscious on the floor before him.

A noise beyond the dressing room door made him turn his attention to it.

* * *

Christine made her way through the opera house looking for the managers. _"They must be out to lunch,"_ she thought as she looked into their office. She decided to check the main stage to inspect the damage the fire had left behind. 

Everything was burned beyond recognition and the only thing she could make out was the broken chandelier, embedded into the stage. She sighed as she thought back on the events that led to the opera's destruction. It seemed so long ago to her. Being with Erik seemed to make time nonexistent. She smiled at the thought of their first meeting as he came to her through the mirror of her dressing room.

Being drawn by her thoughts, she found herself down the hall from her old dressing room. She furrowed her brow as she heard a noise coming from the direction before her.

She walked down the hall with care and stopped before the door. She heard two muffled voices, as she cracked the door slightly to peer inside. What she saw frightened her beyond all comprehension. She saw Philippe strike Meg and she now lay on the floor, unmoving.

As Philippe turned, Christine could see a trail of blood smattered across the left side of his face, down his neck. She gasped suddenly and Philippe shifted his attention to the door.

Christine turned and tried to run, but a crazed Philippe quickly held her back.

"_Leaving_ so soon?" Philippe said maniacally.

"Let _go_of me! You're not yourself, Philippe!" Christine insisted.

"_Au contraire_, mon cher! I am _more_ myself than I have _ever_ been! I am taking care of matters that _should_ have been dealt with long ago. Now, if you would be so kind as to take your place alongside your _whoring counterpart_!" He said with disdain as he shoved her into the room.

Christine knelt by Meg, trying to wake her to no avail.

Philippe slammed the door behind him as he walked up to the two girls.

"_Please_, Philippe… she needs a doctor. Just let us go!" Christine pleaded.

"_She_ will be tended to where she's going," Philippe chuckled wickedly.

Christine stood up facing him. "You're not well, Philippe. Let me get Raoul and we can discuss things _rationally_."

"You mean so _you_ can cast your venomous charms upon him and _bend_ him to your will, do you not? I will _not_ have it!" Philippe grabbed onto Christine's neck firmly. "_You_ and that conspiring _wench_ there will do _exactly_ as I say. We will leave for La Rochelle post haste, where I can be _rid _of the both of you!" Philippe spat out as he tossed her aside forcefully.

Christine hit her head against the vanity table and blackness consumed her as she came to rest on the floor beside Meg.

* * *

Victor sat reading the day's paper as he awaited his mistress. Looking up from his paper he noticed a man quickly running down the stairs motioning to his apparent driver. After exchanging a few words the driver maneuvered his carriage and Victor watched as it disappeared around the corner. Shifting his attention back to the man, he watched as he ran back up the steps and into the building.

* * *

As per Erik's request in the message he received, Nadir made his way towards the Opera Populaire to check on the progression of the reconstruction. He had also mentioned that Christine would be there and that he would be able to ride with her back to the estate for dinner. 

Nadir noticed Erik's driver out front, confirming that Christine was indeed inside.

Walking up to the carriage, he addressed the driver. "Good afternoon, Victor!" Nadir smiled.

"Ah, Monsieur Khan! Good day to you!" Victor said extending his hand to the Persian.

Shaking the driver's hand, Nadir asked, "Has Madame Delacroix been inside long?"

Victor took out his pocket watch and rubbed at his beard. "She seems to be taking a bit longer than she specified."

Always the pessimist, Nadir tapped on his chin with his finger. "Perhaps I shall see what is keeping her."

"Do you wish for me to accompany you, Monsieur?" Victor asked.

"That's quite alright," Nadir answered as he made his way towards the steps.

Resigned to wait with the carriage, Victor shook his head and climbed back up to the driver's bench, picking up his paper once more.

* * *

Madame Giry made her way down the street toward Beauvais's Bakery. _"That child is always losing track of time,"_ she thought, shaking her head in disappointment. She had expected Meg to be home in time to prepare for tonight's dinner, but she had not arrived. She would surely pull her daughter by the ear, if she were indeed still at the bakery.

* * *

Raoul spent most of the afternoon chatting with the bakery owner after Meg had left him. He found it refreshing just to spend the day casually. He didn't want to deal with business matters or chat about politics. He found Adrien Beauvais very interesting, as the baker recalled his travels across several countries, learning different techniques from head pastry chefs. Raoul couldn't believe there was so much skill and discipline involved in the culinary field. 

As they enjoyed their cup of tea outside of the bakery, Raoul spotted Madame Giry coming toward them.

"Messieurs," Madame Giry bowed.

Both men stood and addressed her, offering her a seat.

"Non, merci. I'm just looking for my daughter," Madame Giry said, looking to Raoul.

"Madame, she left me awhile ago, for the opera house. I have been here with Monsieur Beauvais since she took her leave. Has she not returned home by now?" Raoul questioned curiously.

"Non, I believed her to still be here with you, Monsieur Vicomte," Madame Giry said furrowing her brow.

"Allow me to escort you to the opera house, Madame," Raoul said with concern, offering his arm.

There was no time to argue. Madame Giry took Raoul's arm and they bid farewell to the baker.

* * *

Nadir made his way through the blackened foyer and to the manager's office. Realizing no one was present, he made his way to the stage area and saw nothing but a few ashen footprints, too small to be a gentleman's print. 

Following them to the long hallway that lead to the changing area, he noticed the footprints became erratic and now several other prints blended within them.

Nadir called out, "Christine? Are you down here?"

There was no answer.

Checking several rooms, he came up empty handed. His nerves began to settle in as he came to the last door, which he knew to be Christine's old dressing room.

As he got to the door he saw several drops of crimson. He crouched down and touched his finger to it. _"Blood,"_ he noted as he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.

Nadir unsheathed his Jambiya dagger and carefully opened the door.

Making sure it was clear, he perused the room for any sign of Christine. He could make out more droplets of crimson and on the ashen settee was a pair of leather gloves. It was definitely out of place and something to go on.

He noticed more blood on the corner of the vanity table and on the floor was a string of light blue ribbon.

As perplexing as the scene was, Nadir was certain of the outcome that stood before him. His years of training in Persia and being the Daroga had served him well in calculating evidence. He let out a sigh as he thought, _"Erik is not going to be pleased. Whoever did this will live a short life under the Punjab."_

Collecting what he found, Nadir made his was out of the opera house. Making his way down the front steps, he saw Madame Giry and the Vicomte walking toward him.

"Madame, might I have a word with you in private?" Nadir asked bowing to her.

"Of course, pardon me, Monsieur," she said, patting Raoul's arm.

Nadir walked her over to Erik's carriage as Victor hopped down from his seat to join them in conversation.

Raoul stood watching the three and wondering who the strange foreigner was. "_Could it be the same foreigner Philippe spoke of?"_ He thought. He noticed Madame Giry shaking her head, and then grabbing hold of the oddly dressed man, shaking him. She was noticeably distraught, before the two men scrambled to catch her as she fainted.

Raoul had seen enough. He made his way to them and demanded, "What is going on? What did you tell her to make her pass out like that?"

Nadir and Victor looked at each other then glanced back in Raoul's direction.

"Bring her into the carriage, Victor, and make sure she is comfortable. I will take us to the estate." Nadir ordered.

Victor nodded in compliance and carried Madame Giry into the carriage.

"Monsieur Vicomte, I am Nadir Khan, my apologies if I am being curt, but if you will join me, I can explain on the way," Nadir said as he climbed up into the driver's bench.

"On the way to _where_, Monsieur Khan?" Raoul questioned suspiciously.

"To _his_ estate," Nadir said simply, knowing Raoul would understand.

With a quick nod, Raoul climbed into the seat next to Nadir and they made their way down the street, headed for The House of Roses.

* * *

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights to Pierre Carlet de Chamblain de Marivaux or his play, "The Game of Love and Chance." 


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER 34 **

Raoul tried to make sense of everything Nadir had told him during the ride to the estate. As they approached the imposing iron gates, Raoul couldn't help but feel anxiety gripping around him like a vice.

Stopping to open the gates then climbing back into the driver's seat, Nadir looked at his paling passenger and said, "Are you ready?"

Raoul kept his attention toward the house and simply nodded.

Nadir took up the reins and proceeded toward The House of Roses.

* * *

"_She should've been here by now,"_ Erik thought, pacing the floor of his study. He tried to stay positive by assuming she must have gotten caught up with Meg and Madame Giry, that she simply forgot the time. _"Impossible, she was always on time for our lessons at the opera house,"_ he concluded. 

Erik couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Walking out of his study, he came across his butler.

"Nicolas? Where are you off to?" Erik questioned.

"Your carriage has returned, Monsieur Delacroix, I was just about…" Nicolas didn't get the chance to finish his reply.

Erik quickly made his way to the front door to greet his wife and to see what had taken her so long.

Nicolas followed suit behind his master.

* * *

Nadir brought the carriage to a halt before the front of the estate and hopped down from the driver's bench. 

Victor opened the carriage door and helped an emotionally frail Madame Giry out of the carriage.

As Raoul made to step down from his seat, Nadir placed a hand at his shoulder.

"I will not disillusion you, Vicomte. Erik will not be pleased by your presence, nor will he understand it. In fact, he may want to kill you, but that will not happen while I am here. I ask that you wait by the carriage, so that I may try and explain the situation."

Raoul stood tall and nodded. "Very well. See to it that _he_ understand my intentions. There is no love lost between us, I assure you. I would rather like to kill _him_ myself, but right now, there are two people we need to worry about, and it is not le fantôme, nor I."

Victor helped Madame Giry up the steps to the front door of the house.

As he made to open the door, Erik stepped out and looked at the two of them with surprise.

"Victor?" he questioned his driver and then looked to Madame Giry. "Annette, what's wrong?"

He glanced past the two of them as he saw Nadir making his way toward him.

"Christine? Where is Christine, Daroga?"

With his keen eyes he focused on the carriage beyond them. The concern of a simple man turned to a maddened hell bound beast. "What in the _hell _is that _BOY_ doing here!"

Erik moved his hand to his waist on instinct looking for his trusty Punjab lasso, but alas it was not on him.

* * *

Raoul steadied his left hand on his pistol at his side as soon as he saw Erik emerge from the house. His hand began to shake nervously as he watched Erik go from a man with a normal demeanor to a raging monster.

* * *

Nadir held Erik back as he asked Nicolas to help Victor with Madame Giry, into the sitting room. 

"You _only _postpone the inevitable, Daroga! I will snap that boy's neck like a twig with my own bare hands if I must!"

Erik tried to get past the Persian, sneering at Raoul.

Nadir was an unmovable force.

Erik was much younger than the Daroga, but he was nowhere near his size in brawn.

"I _trusted _you, Daroga! What did _he_ do with _my _wife! Why have you brought him here? Has he come to _gloat_? Are the Gendarmes coming to _storm_ the house as we speak? Was this all just a _farce_ to rid the world of the _infamous _Opera Ghost!" Erik rambled.

Before Erik could continue his outrageous claims, Nadir thought, _"I hate to do it, but I must." _

The Persian raised his hand and slapped Erik across the left side of his face.

Glaring fiercely into Nadir's eyes, Erik said icily, "You have _exactly_ five seconds to explain yourself, before I _snap _your neck and do the _same_ to the _fop_ behind you."

Nadir knew his friend was gravely serious. He also knew that given his current state, he could very well do it.

Erik began his count and without hesitating Nadir spoke clearly and quickly.

"**One…"**

"Meg has been taken."

"**Two…"**

"She was abducted while at the opera house."

"**Three…"**

"I found clues to back my theory."

"**Four…"**

"Le Vicomte has an idea of who may be behind this."

"**FIVE!"**

"My friend, this same abductor has taken Christine as well. I'm sorry."

The Daroga's last words shot daggers into Erik's heart as the tension in his face eased.

Nadir could feel Erik's grip loosen from his arms and his head began to lower.

So many horrible thoughts flashed across Erik's mind like lightning. All he could see was Christine's face in despair. His mental anguish took him from one extreme to another.

Nadir lowered his head to look into Erik's face, shaking him firmly by the arms. "Are you alright, Erik? _Speak _to me!"

Erik's reaction was new to the Daroga and completely unexpected.

"Christine…" Erik breathed as he fell to his knees and passed out.

Raoul cocked his head to the side and wondered what had just happened. _"At least he won't be able to make any attempts on my life in that state."_

Nadir motioned to Raoul to help him carry Erik into the sitting room with the others.

Hesitantly, he walked over to the Persian and the unconscious Erik.

"I will take his lower half. You secure him from the top," Nadir directed.

On the count of three, they lifted Erik and carefully made their way through the house and into the sitting room.

Nadir and Raoul carried Erik over to the settee by the bay window. They carefully eased him down onto it. Before Raoul could finish moving his hands from underneath Erik's arms, he gasped as Erik shot his hand up and secured it around his neck.

Nicolas and Victor both yelled out to their master, as their eyes grew wide.

"Did you _think _you could escape my wrath, _BOY_!" Erik sneered.

Raoul struggled to breathe as Erik slowly applied pressure to his windpipe.

"I should have done away with you that night below the opera house!" Erik said wildly.

Nadir tried to pry Erik's hand from Raoul's neck. "Erik,_ release_ him! He cannot breathe!"

"_That's_ the point, Daroga! _Must _you be so short-sighted?" Erik stated irritably.

Nicolas and Victor ran over to their master trying in vain to convince Erik to let go of the Vicomte.

Raoul was on the verge of passing out before he heard a loud noise and felt Erik's grip loosen.

The sound of Madame Giry's cane was like thunder, waking Erik from his insensate state of mind, as it struck the floor.

Falling to the floor, coughing, Raoul tried to catch his breath. "She would… _never_ have… been yours… if you _killed_ me… _that_ night," Raoul took a deep breath and continued. "My being alive _guaranteed_ your happiness… _like it or not_!" Raoul coughed out.

Nadir patted his back telling him to take slow, steady breaths.

"How _dare_…" Erik was about to retort when Madame Giry loudly interrupted.

"All of you, shut up! My daughter's life is in danger and you fools carry on like cavemen!" She said sternly.

She walked over to them and swiftly brought her cane down again. The men flinched as Madame Giry stood before them imposingly.

"We _must_ concentrate our efforts on bringing Meg and Christine back home _safely_!"

She brought her cane up and tapped it against Nadir's shoulder. "You. Take le Vicomte over to the far end of the room, away from _this _man," she poked the end of her cane into Erik's side.

Erik snorted at her and looked away towards the window.

"You two..." she waved her cane and pointed at Victor and Nicolas, "…go bring us some tea."

She eyed both servants as they looked at each other stupefied. She brought her cane down and commanded, "_Now!_"

The sitting room settled to a tense calm as Madame Giry sat beside Erik. "Mon ami, I need you now _more_ than I have ever needed you. You _must_ put your anger aside for le Vicomte and focus on bringing _your_ wife and _my_ daughter back to us. We will get nothing accomplished if you choose to take every moment plotting your next attack on Raoul."

Erik kept his eyes to the window, the yellow-orange color of the sky occupying his mind. It would be night soon. The longer the two girls went missing, the greater the peril would be.

He took in a long breath and sat up to face Madame Giry. "This is the _hardest_ task I've ever had to deal with, Annette. With _him_ being here, it just makes it _more_ unbearable. _Why_ must he be here? He has no reason to be involved. I am perfectly capable of…"

Erik narrowed his eyes at Raoul as he spoke, interrupting him

"I have _every_ right to be here!" He paused a moment before continuing. "Unfortunately, I believe myself to be the cause for Christine and Meg's disappearance," he admitted, as he stood up and straightened his jacket.

"Please sit down, Monsieur Vicomte," Nadir said anxiously as he watched Erik begin to stiffen his back.

"_So_, it's _you_ that has caused this? Now, you give me just cause to _kill_ you!" Erik made a move to get up, but Madame Giry held her cane firmly across his chest.

"_Erik!_" she snapped as he paused.

"Erik, you will want to hear what le Vicomte has to say," Nadir said evenly.

Madame Giry placed her hand on Erik's shoulder and calmly said, "Let him speak, mon ami. _Please_, for me." Closing his eyes to calm himself, he nodded.

Nadir took hold of Raoul's arm as he tried to move. "This will be your _only_ chance with him. Speak clearly and to the point. He does not take kindly to delays in speech."

Raoul nodded at Nadir in acknowledgement. He ran his hands through his hair and walked toward Erik and Madame Giry with determination.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
I'm glad everyone despises Philippe as much as I do. Writing him has been crazy. That man excels at being a jackass! 

To PhantomLover05: Yes, Philippe has taken Christine and Meg.

To Lindaleriel: I am glad you are enjoying this fic. It's nice to hear from a Raoul supporter that has positive things to say about the way I am writing him. Thank you!


	35. Chapter 35

**CHAPTER 35**

Getting Christine and Meg out of the Opera Populaire proved to be easier than Philippe had thought. The back of the opera house was not scheduled to be restored for several months. With the help of his driver, they brought the girls out of the building and into the carriage, undetected. Philippe bound the girls tightly with rope he found discarded backstage as they made their way to his holiday property in Fontainebleau. Preparations would need to be made overnight in order to bring his plan to fruition.

The ride to Fontainebleau was a made in relative silence. Christine and Meg remained unconscious and the only noise that could be heard was the gallop of the horses and the steady knock of the carriage as it made its journey across town.

Reaching the property, Philippe and his driver carried the girls into a guest room upstairs. Once they were deposited upon the king size four-poster bed, both men exited the room and Philippe locked it with his key.

Turning to his driver, Philippe said, "We will be staying here tonight, until arrangements can be made."

Philippe's driver looked at his master with concern and asked, "I beg your pardon, Comte, but should we not get a doctor to attend to their injuries?"

"They will be tended to in La Rochelle. For now we will make due with what we have here on the premises." Philippe said simply.

"But Comte, with no attending staff, how are we…" Alphonse was sharply interrupted.

"Alphonse, I ask that you do not question my authority, nor do you concern yourself in this matter, other than what I command of you. Do I make myself clear?" Philippe dictated.

The look Philippe gave his driver made him feel very uneasy. Alphonse nodded, "Of course, Comte, my apologies."

"I shall be in the study. Ready my quarters and bring me some tea when you are done," Philippe ordered, then made his way down the stairs.

* * *

Philippe had finished his letter to be sent to the Chateau de la Fontenelle in La Rochelle. Leaning against the back of his leather chair, he held the letter up and went over it once more. 

_**Madame Brigitte,**_

_**I have need of your services, which must be handled in a discreet manner. You will find that what I have to offer will be very rewarding. If you would kindly hold court with me upon my arrival to Chateau de la Fontenelle, I would like to go over the details with you. It is of great importance that this transaction be completed forthwith and I ask that you keep this matter between us. **_

_**I look forward to seeing you.**_

_**Comte Philippe de Chagny**_

Pleased with himself, he reached across his desk, placed the letter in an envelope, and secured it with his seal.

Alphonse called to his master from outside of his study, tray in hand. "Comte, I have your tea."

"Entrer." Philippe called.

Entering the room, Alphonse set the tray down before his master. "Your quarters are ready, Comte. Will you be in need of anything else before I retire?"

"Non, but I will have you stay in the adjoining room from our guests, so that you can alert me to any mischief, should they awaken." Philippe stated.

"Very well, Comte. Bonne nuit." Alphonse replied and excused himself.

* * *

Meg slowly opened her eyes. She could barely remember what had happened to her. As she looked hazily around her, she didn't recall where she could possibly be. Her head was pounding and as she brought her hand up to try and brush her hair from her face, she realized her hands were bound tightly together. Everything started to come back to her now, her after noon with Raoul, her trip to the opera house, and her run in with Philippe. 

"_Philippe! He has done this!" _she thought as her eyes widened. Seeing somewhat clearly, she noticed she was not alone in the bed she lay upon.

A mess of brown curls was sprawled about the bed.

Meg gasped as she realized who it was. _"What is Christine doing here?"_

"Christine!" Meg whispered frantically as she nudged at her friend's back. "Christine? Wake up, mon ami, please!" Nudging her a few more times she noticed a stain of crimson on the pillow Christine's head was on. "Mon dieu! This cannot be happening. Please, Christine, you must wake!" Meg pleaded as she began to cry.

Christine stirred slightly as a low moan came from her throat.

"Thank you, God!" Meg whispered as she sniffled her tears back, trying to compose herself. "Christine, can you hear me?" Meg hoped.

"M-Me-Meg?" Christine mumbled.

"Oui, mon ami. I am here. Just try to relax, Christine. You have a head injury, but I am unsure of the condition. There is a lot of blood on the pillow, but thankfully you are awake."

Christine tried to lift her hand up to her head, but she was too weak from the loss of blood.

"Our hands are bound, Christine. I don't know where we are, but I know this is Philippe's doing." Meg stated.

"Ph-Phil-ippe?" Christine said in a staggering breath.

"Oui, he is not well. He attacked me in your old dressing room at the opera house. I bit him and his eyes went wild. He struck me across the face and that is all I remember." Meg said in anguish.

Christine moaned again as she turned slowly to face her friend.

Meg brushed Christine's curls away from her face. "Christine, what will we do? We must escape from here! I don't have a good feeling about this." Meg's tears began to flow again in panic.

"Shhhh," Christine cooed softly. "E-Er-ik will co-come." Christine smiled and closed her eyes.

"Christine, how did you get yourself into this? Christine? Christine! Wake up!" Meg watched as her friend fall from consciousness and she was alone again.

She moved closer to Christine and rested her head against her friend, saying a prayer for them both and hoping beyond all hope that they would be rescued soon.

* * *

Alphonse had his ear to the door as he heard voices in the room next to his. He had heard everything that was said and he couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach at what he had been a part of. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to betray his master, but he knew this entire situation was wrong. As much as he wanted to do the right thing, he feared the wrath of the man downstairs. He noticed Philippe's demeanor had been unnatural. The look in his eyes had been menacing. Of all his years in his master's service, he had never witnessed such lunacy. The only thing he could do for now, was get some sleep and not mention the conversation he had heard between the two captives in the room next to his.

* * *

Philippe finished one more letter and went over it as he did the other. 

_**Marcel,**_

_**You and your brothers are to meet me at my holiday home in Fontainebleau immediately upon reading this message. It is time to repay your debt to me. I shall give you all the details once you arrive. Do not delay, Marcel, or I will have your head on a silver platter by nightfall.**_

_**Comte Philippe de Chagny**_

Philippe smiled eerily as he secured the letter with his seal. Yawning, he decided to adjourn to his quarters and get some rest for the day to come.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Pertie, thanks for the wonderful review as always. -hugs- wiseupjanetweiss, the reaction is in the next chapter. -wink- Hearts Aflame, here is your "update update" -giggles- 

**Disclaimer**  
I have no affiliation, rights, nor do I profit from the Chateau de la Fontenelle. Yes, it is a real place and has been around for many centuries now. It's a beauty of a place.


	36. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER 36**

Standing before Madame Giry and Erik, Raoul stood tall and spoke. "Undoubtedly, you know of my friendship with Meg. Well, it appears that my brother seems to think it is much more, regardless of how many times I've told him to the contrary. He threatened me the other night about the company I keep and I fear he has done what I hoped he would not. The piece of evidence Monsieur Khan collected only confirms it for me. I am sorry about being the cause of Meg and Christine's disappearance and I would like to aid in their safe return, not only for their sake, but because I believe my brother to be unwell."

Ignoring Raoul, Erik turned his head in Madame Giry's direction and addressed her. "Annette? Am I supposed to feel _sympathy_ for this man whose brother is the cause of _my_ distress and of _yours_? And he _pities_ his brother for this act of _abduction_? There is _no_ excuse!"

Turning his attention back on Raoul, he warned, "I will _not_ hesitate to kill le Comte or _you_, boy!"

Raoul countered, "I will have you know that I do not _condone_ his actions, but he is _still _my brother. He is not _above _the law and I am prepared to take him in _myself_. I do not wish him harm. He _needs_ doctors."

"He _needs_ to be at the end of my lasso, along with _you_ for taking his actions lightly!" Erik threatened.

Taking in a deep breath, Raoul looked at Erik and spoke stoically. _"Everyone_ deserves a second chance. That includes _you_, or have you so soon _forgotten_ this?

Erik hated the man before him, yet he couldn't deny that what he last spoke of was the truth. He would never admit to it though. _"He is much wiser than I gave him credit for. A true rival indeed,"_ he thought, strangely amused.

Noticing the young Vicomte had Erik at a loss for words, Nadir cut in, hoping to save his friend from embarrassment. "Gentlemen, might I suggest we gather what information we can and see about getting the girls back to us as soon as possible? The longer we delay, I fear we will lose whatever leads we may have available to us."

"Tell us what you know, Daroga," Erik suggested, waking from his deep thoughts.

* * *

Nicolas and Victor came into the sitting room both carrying tea trays, setting them down onto the long table in front of the fireplace. 

Madame Giry instructed Nadir to start a fire as she poured tea for the men.

They all gathered around the table as Nadir recalled his findings. The blood he had found concerned Erik and Madame Giry. The need to bring the girls home was now a matter of urgency. They would not know for certain the condition of the owner of such an injury.

"Does anyone have anything more to add? May it be of importance or not, speak up!" Erik said strongly.

Victor scratched at his head and looked up as if trying to gather his thoughts from the ceiling.

"Victor!" Erik said, startling his driver.

"Oui, Monsieur?" Victor said attentively.

"You have something for us?" Erik eyed him questioningly.

"I am not sure if it _is_ something, but as I waited for Madame to return to me, there was a rather large man coming from inside the opera house. He addressed his driver and then ran back into the Opera Populaire as his driver drove off. I did not think anything of it, Monsieur. Do you think it's a clue?" Victor asked.

Before Erik could respond, Raoul spoke up and addressed Victor. "Exactly what did this man look like?"

"Well, Vicomte, he was tall, burly around the shoulders, sharply dressed, with a dark moustache."

"And the driver?" Raoul inquired.

"He looked to be tall as well, but thin, no facial hair. As the carriage pulled around the corner, I noticed it had a symbol of sorts, designed in gold. I am not exactly sure of what."

"_The de Chagny family crest."_ Raoul lowered his head in disappointment. From the description Victor gave of the two men and the gloves found by the Persian, there was no doubt in his mind that it was his brother Philippe.

Erik noticed immediately the guilt that was evident across the Vicomte's face. "_Where _did he take them, _BOY_?" Erik demanded.

Madame Giry squeezed Erik's hand and shook her head at him as he continued.

"We _must_ act now, if we hope to gain the advantage. So, if you would be so _kind_ as to give us an idea _where_ we may find your brother," Erik rephrased.

"He owns several properties across France as well as having access to the de Chagny holiday homes. I fear it will be like trying to find a needle in the haystack," Raoul said, clearly frustrated.

"Then perhaps we should start with what is closest," Erik said sensibly.

"The family property in Fontainebleau would be closest. It is not far from here," Raoul pointed out.

"Then we shall go at first light," Erik finalized.

Turning to Nicolas, Erik ordered, "Nicolas, you will keep watch at the Opera Populaire for anything suspicious and you are to report to me immediately, should something arise." Changing his focus from Nicolas, Erik addressed his driver, "Victor, your orders are the same, but you will overlook the Comte's estate in Paris." Glaring at Raoul, Erik toned, "Vicomte, you will give me a written account of all the de Chagny properties so that Nadir and I can survey each one until we find them." Facing Madame Giry and taking her hands into his, Erik said pointedly, "Annette, you will remain here with the Vicomte."

"Erik, you do not expect me to stand idly by while my daughter is out there in harms way?" Madame Giry questioned.

"Annette, _please_! I need you here, to be safe and _if _something should happen to me, you are to meet with my associate Monsieur Reinard and he will entrust everything to you along with instructions."

"But Erik, I…" Madame Giry paused as Erik spoke to her in a serious tone.

"Annette, you _will _do this for me, do you _hear_ me? I will do _everything_ within my power to see Meg and Christine home safely," Erik stated, leaving no room for her to argue.

"Bring my daughter _back _to me, Erik." Madame Giry said, gripping Erik's shoulders.

"I _promise_, Annette. It shall be done." Erik looked into her eyes confidently.

Raoul stood and addressed Erik. "You will _not_ dismiss _me_ so lightly, Monsieur."

"I _can _and I _will_!" Erik said sharply.

"Might I point out that _I _can get you both into all the properties with ease." Raoul explained.

"Do you think we are _incapable_ of doing so?" Erik gestured to himself and Nadir.

"I don't put it past the both of you, _but_, should we find them, I will be able to convince my brother of letting them go, much easier than _either_ of you could. If nothing more, _I _will give you an advantage."

"He has a point, Erik," Nadir spoke up.

Erik turned his head and smirked at the Daroga, then focused back on Raoul. "I _still _don't trust you, Vicomte. Be advised that I _will_ end your life if I feel for one moment that you intend to betray me."

"I have no intention of _betraying_ you, Monsieur. If _that _were the case, I would have done so that night below the opera house. I only wish to right the wrong my brother has caused and bring Christine and Meg back safely. I do not _ask_ for your trust. I only ask that you _allow_ my assistance and nothing more," Raoul said simply.

Erik glared at the resolute Vicomte. Once again, he was rendered speechless.

Nadir cued in once more, upon viewing Erik's distress. "Let's get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us."

Nicolas showed Madame Giry and Raoul to the guest rooms in the West Wing as Erik and Nadir made their way to the East Wing.

Erik knew he would not get any sleep tonight. Everything in the master suite reminded him of Christine. It hadn't been long since they spent their time together in the very bed he laid upon. He could still smell her within the sheets, a dizzying bouquet of roses and lavender.

"_God, I am no saint or one for words of praise, but if you truly exist, I pray that you hear me now. Keep Christine and Meg safe. I would gladly trade my life for theirs should you see fit, but if anything should happen to them…"_

Erik paused trying to clear his thoughts of negative images.

"…_then you truly are no merciful God and I shall spend eternity in the fires of Hell, aiding the devil to bring an end to your reign!" _


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER 37**

As the moon gave way to the morning sun, Meg woke, swinging her legs to the side of the bed. She was terribly stiff and needed to stretch her limbs. Thankfully only her hands were bound. She stood up and walked around the bed to a small chair. She pushed it over to Christine's side and seated herself upon it.

Leaning closer to Christine, she whispered, "Christine? Wake up! It's morning."

Christine did not stir.

Brushing Christine's curls away from her face, Meg noticed her pale complexion against the light of the sun. She brought her hand to Christine's face, feeling her forehead, and noting she was unusually warm. _"A fever!"_ Meg thought with panic.

She tried nudging Christine, but she would only become lucid for a few seconds then fade back into unconsciousness.

Meg got up and banged on the door with her bound hands. "S'il vous plaît! Someone? My friend needs a doctor!" Meg repeatedly struck the door until she heard a voice.

"Mademoiselle, please be calm. I will get le Comte. He is the only one with a key," the voice said.

"Wait, who are you? Can you not help us flee? Le Comte is not well," Meg said, hoping the man would assist them.

"I'm sorry, Mademoiselle, there is nothing I can do. Forgive me. I will get le Comte," the voice said resigned.

Meg listened to the footsteps fade and sighed in frustration. _"I must find a way to get us out of here! _

_

* * *

_  
Alphonse reported to Philippe, telling him that one of the girls requested medical attention and failed to mention anything more. Philippe handed his driver the two letters he had written during the night and told him to have them sent out immediately. As Alphonse took his leave, Philippe made his way upstairs, key in hand.

* * *

Meg did her best to keep Christine cool. She dampened a small towel from the bathroom and kept it to Christine's forehead. The wound seemed to have stopped bleeding, but since it was not cared for, Meg was certain that it was the cause of her fever. 

As she said a silent prayer, she heard the lock of the door click. Turning her attention toward it, she watched as a smug Philippe entered the room.

"What seems to be the _problem_ here? This had better not be a trick or else I shall see to it that you and that one there are sent to _lesser_ accommodations than what you have now," Philippe said callously.

"Christine is ill, Philippe. Get her a doctor, please!" Meg pleaded.

"You just want me to bring in an _outsider_ so that you may try and _escape_ or pass a note in hopes of being discovered!" Philippe snapped.

"She needs _medicine _and someone to _tend_ to her injury. You cannot expect me to be able to keep her _well_ with just a simple wet cloth?" Meg argued.

"You will make do with what is _available_ to you and _if _she dies, then you have no one to blame but _yourself_!" Philippe yelled and then exited the room.

Meg felt so helpless. She wanted to cry, but she knew she had to stay strong for Christine's sake. She knew that if anything happened to Christine, there would only be one person to blame and that was Philippe.

Holding back her tears, she got up to moisten the cloth again. It was the only thing she could do for Christine. _"I pray her fever does not worsen."_

_

* * *

_  
Erik prepared all they needed to make the trip to Fontainebleau. He made sure to send Nicolas and Victor out to their posts before waking Nadir. He told his old friend to send for the Vicomte.

"I will be waiting out front for you both. Do not delay," Erik suggested.

Nadir and Raoul made their way out of the front doors. Erik was already seated in the driver's position and told Raoul to get inside of the carriage as he motioned to Nadir to take the seat beside him.

As the carriage made its way past the gates of the estate, Madame Giry watched from her room, placing her hand onto the window. _"God bless their journey and bring them all back safely,"_ she thought solemnly.

* * *

Marcel and his two brothers, Arnaud and Luc, made their way to the front of the de Chagny property in Fontainebleau. 

"I _really_ dislike being in the service of this pompous ass!" Arnaud stated.

"Mind your _tongue_, brother. Once we have paid our debt, we shant be his lackeys anymore," Marcel voiced.

"For what _purpose_ has he called upon us?" Luc asked simply. He was the youngest of the three and the most reserved.

"We will not know until we meet with le Comte. All he requested was our immediate presence. That is _all_ I know," Marcel answered.

* * *

The Aiton brothers stood before the large oak door, as Marcel proceeded to knock. 

Alphonse greeted them and brought the brothers into the sitting room.

"I shall send for le Comte," Alphonse said, making his way towards the study.

Announcing the arrival of his guests to his master, Philippe ordered Alphonse to look in on the girls while he tended to business. He gave his driver the key and Alphonse nodded, making his way up the stairs.

* * *

Knocking before turning the lock, Alphonse opened the door carefully and viewed the two girls sorrowfully. He watched as Meg tended to a fevered Christine. 

"Mademoiselle, are you in need of anything? I fear there is not much I can offer, but I will do my best to assist you," Alphonse suggested.

"Save us from le Comte's madness! Can you not see he is _troubled_?" Meg said desperately.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle. There's _nothing_ I can do... _believe_ me!" Alphonse said in frustration.

Meg pleaded as a few tears fell from her eyes, "Try and get word to Melun, the estate of La Maison de Roses. I _beg_ of you, Monsieur!"

Alphonse just shook his head. He tried to weigh the consequences against his better judgment. He decided not to answer Meg's request.

"I shall bring you both something to eat. I won't be long." Alphonse bowed and exited the room, locking it behind him.

* * *

"_Messieurs_… Good of you all to make it in a timely fashion," Philippe announced, stepping into the sitting room. 

"What in the _hell_ is this all about, Comte?" Arnaud spoke abruptly.

Philippe stiffened at the man's bold outburst.

Marcel glared at his brother for speaking out of turn, and then addressed Philippe. "My apologies, for my brother's rude behavior, Comte."

"See to it that your brothers keep their mouths shut, Marcel, or else I will have their tongues!" Philippe warned.

"Oui, Comte!" Marcel stood and bowed before him.

Philippe walked over to a small table in the corner of the room and poured himself a glass of brandy.

"I will make this as _clear_ as possible, so that there is no mistaking what is to be done. I have two guests that will need hidden transport across France, to La Rochelle. Madame Brigitte will be expecting our arrival at her chateau. I need for the three of you to secure my guests as I will be traveling separately. I do not wish to draw attention to myself."

"I beg your pardon, Comte, but who are these '_guests_' that we will be transporting?" Marcel dared to ask.

"You three are to _refrain _from any questions unless _I _provide you with information. The only thing you and your brothers are to concern yourselves with is doing what I have asked. We leave immediately," Philippe said firmly. "Now, follow me," he gestured.

The three brothers stood up and followed Philippe upstairs, as requested.

As the men made their way to the door of the guestroom, they came upon Alphonse with a tray of food in hand.

"They won't be in need of _that_," Philippe said, knocking the tray from his driver's hand.

"Comte?" Alphonse said confused.

"We're _leaving_! Go ready the carriage!" Philippe ordered.

Alphonse made his way quickly down the stairs as Philippe and the Aiton brothers entered the guestroom.

Against fierce protest, Meg struggled as Philippe and Marcel secured her mouth and made sure her binds were in place. Arnaud and Luc carried Christine's motionless body within a blanket. Marcel told Luc to keep an eye on the girls, as he and Arnaud would be taking turns driving to La Rochelle.

Once everyone was in place, Philippe motioned to Marcel to go ahead of him. Climbing into his carriage, Philippe knocked on the roof to let his driver know he was ready.

As they drove away from the holiday home, Alphonse cursed himself for not acting sooner. Philippe's inhuman display upstairs had snapped Alphonse's good sense back into place.

Now he prayed for a miracle.

Scrawled into the dirt by the side of the house was a message, "La Rochelle, Chateau de la Fontenelle."

* * *

**Disclaimer**  
Once again, I have no affiliation, rights, nor do I profit from the Chateau de la Fontenelle 


	38. Chapter 38

**CHAPTER 38**

During the ride to the de Chagny property in Fontainebleau, Erik and Nadir discussed their passenger inside the carriage.

"He'll just be in the way, Daroga. You and I are perfectly capable of handling this. He's no good to us. Did you not _notice_ his injury? _How_ is he to take up a pistol?" Erik questioned incessantly.

"He's _here_ because of Meg, Erik. He will defend her to the best of his ability, should it arise," Nadir stated.

"I don't want him _near_ Christine!" Erik argued.

"He _knows_ you and Christine are married. He doesn't care for Christine beyond friendship, my boy. He obviously cares a great deal for Meg. I think _more_ than he realizes," Nadir insisted.

Erik snorted as he came upon the gates of the de Chagny property.

Nadir jumped down and opened the gate as Erik drove the carriage through.

Reaching the front of the home, Raoul stepped out and took his keys from his pocket.

Nadir surveilled the outside of the home while Erik and Raoul made their way inside of it.

* * *

Raoul checked the study and the sitting room while Erik rushed upstairs. He could smell her. His keen sense of smell would rival any bloodhound. There was no doubt they had been there, not too long ago in fact. 

Coming to the guestroom, Erik opened it and saw that the bed was unmade. Upon closer inspection he noted the dark crimson upon one of the pillows and a few strands of long brown curly hair. _"Christine!"_ Erik thought with panic as he picked up the strands of hair from the pillow. He now realized who the owner of the blood belonged to.

As Raoul made his way upstairs, he was quickly shoved aside by Erik.

"Out of my way, _BOY_!" Erik growled as he fled out to the front to meet with Nadir.

Affronted by Erik's rudeness, Raoul followed him as he ran around the corner to confront Nadir, who was crouched over a patch of dirt, tracing it with his finger.

Nervous anxiety riddled Erik as he addressed Nadir. "Daroga, they were here and…"

Nadir waved his hand to stop Erik from speaking any further. "They left for La Rochelle," he spoke positively.

Raoul walked up to them as he heard the Persian mention La Rochelle. "Chateau de la Fontenelle?" Raoul questioned.

"It appears so. It seems to be written here," Nadir pointed out.

"Stop being so cryptic and _explain _to me what is in La Rochelle at this Chateau de la Fontenelle!" Erik demanded, staring at both men.

"My brother would go there often in his youth for entertainment," Raoul said cautiously.

"What do you mean for **'**_entertainment_**'**?" Erik asked on edge.

"It's a bordello, Erik," Nadir said, standing from his crouched position.

Erik's face turned to stone as he clenched his fists. The sounds from his leather gloves were unnerving to both men. Trying his best to calm himself, he suggested they leave at once in order to catch up to them.

"They shouldn't be too far ahead of us, but we _must_ leave _now_!" Erik commanded as he swiftly ran back to the carriage.

Nadir and Raoul followed behind him and quickly took their positions. Erik took up the reins and fueled the horses at a maddening pace.

* * *

There was a fork in the road, yet both paths lead to La Rochelle, one route being quicker than the other. 

"Which do we take?" Marcel yelled behind him.

Alphonse stepped down from his seat and opened the carriage door to address his master. "They wish to know which road we are to travel on, Comte."

With much thought Philippe decided, "Let them take the longer route. We should not travel this close beside them."

Nodding to his master, Alphonse closed the door and climbed back into his seat. He drove up to Marcel's carriage and told him they would be parting ways from here, until La Rochelle. He motioned to the route on the right, and then waved as he took the Comte down the left path.

Nodding in confirmation, Marcel took up the reins and they made their way down the path, in the opposite direction.

* * *

Halfway into their journey, Nadir noticed Erik dozing off a few times. "I know you didn't sleep last night, Erik. Let me take over. You will be no use to anyone if you continue in this manner," Nadir stated. 

"How do you expect me to sleep during this?" Erik asked, annoyed.

They came to a fork in the road as Nadir answered, "Trade places with the Vicomte and I will bring us through this leg of the journey.

Erik hopped down from the carriage hesitantly as Nadir questioned, "Which route should we take?"

"If they both lead to La Rochelle, take the fastest route possible, Daroga. You do _know _where you're going, do you not?" Erik answered as he opened the door to the carriage and pulled Raoul out by the arm forcefully.

"What's going on?" Raoul demanded as he tried to catch his balance after abruptly being removed from the inside of the carriage.

"_You_ can keep that boorish oaf company," Erik said as he slammed the door of the carriage in the face of the Vicomte.

"I _shall _unhitch the horses and _leave_ you, Erik!" Nadir said, pounding on the roof of the carriage.

"Try it and you _will_ find yourself before your _great_ Allah!" Erik smirked as he pulled his cloak around him closing his eyes.

Raoul climbed up beside Nadir and shook his head. "You two are _friends_? Does he _always _act like that?"

Nadir smiled as he beckoned the horses forward. "Behind his tough exterior dwells a good man. As much as he _irritates_ me beyond belief, I am glad to call him my friend. He takes some getting _used_ to."

"I don't see myself _ever_ getting used to him." Raoul said plainly.

Nadir patted Raoul on the back and continued. "We did not always see eye to eye. It was years before we bonded any semblance of a friendship."

"I apologize, Monsieur Khan, but once this is all over, I will not want to breathe the same air that so called man breathes," Raoul said truthfully.

"I admire your honesty and I understand your reasons, but you cannot blame him for the circumstances he had no control over, being treated unjustly all his life. His actions may not merit an excuse, but it was all he could do from a world that had failed to accept him. You and I will never know the cruelties he faced," Nadir explained.

"I can sympathize for his past, Monsieur, but what of his current state? I have given him a chance at happiness, for Christine's sake, but he still acts every bit the inhuman monster I have come to believe him to be." Raoul said resolutely.

Nadir chuckled at the familiarity of the man beside him. There was a time when he held similar thoughts regarding Erik.

"Vicomte, I do not expect you to change your view of Erik overnight, if ever. If anything is to come of this entire situation, we must leave that for Allah to decide." Nadir gestured to the sky above them.

Raoul looked at Nadir and nodded. _"This Persian is a strange fellow, but that should not surprise me with the company he keeps,"_ he thought as he smiled falsely back at the Daroga.

* * *

Alphonse stopped in Châtellerault at the request of Philippe. They found an inn that would tend to the horses while they dined to a late meal. During their supper, he asked if they would be staying the night. He had driven all day and would welcome the rest. 

Philippe thought briefly, flattening his moustache and then decided they would stay the night. He gave Alphonse some money to get two rooms and when he returned with the keys, Philippe told him to be ready at first light. It would take an entire day's ride to make it to La Rochelle by nightfall.

* * *

Raoul suggested stopping at his personal property in Cholet, which he acquired during his time in the Navy. Nadir agreed that it would be a good place to rest for the night and that they would continue first thing in the morning for the rest of their journey to La Rochelle. As they stopped the carriage in front of the home, Nadir and Raoul climbed down wearily, stretching their limbs. Erik came out of the carriage and yawned. 

"Where are we, Daroga?" Erik asked.

"This is le Vicomte's holiday home. He suggested we sleep here for tonight." Nadir answered.

"Sleep? I've had enough rest. You two get in here and I will drive us the rest of the way to La Rochelle." Erik held the carriage door open and gestured for them to get inside.

Raoul looked at Nadir in frustration as the Persian waved his hand assuring him he would handle the situation. "Vicomte, bring the horses to the stables and see to it they have plenty of food and water."

Raoul nodded and brought the carriage around to the back of the house.

"You better have a _damn_ good reason for overriding _my_ decision, Daroga!" Erik said with a steely glare.

"The _only_ reason that any _idiot_ could comprehend is that the horses need food, water, and rest, if you are to expect them to perform without fail. The same applies for the company _you_ keep, old boy. It's been a long ride and I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not up to arguing with you, so grant me this _one _request and let us get some rest." Nadir looked at Erik with weary sincerity.

Raoul came back to the front of the house and placed his key into the door, opening it. Looking toward the two men staring down at each other, Raoul shook his head and continued to walk into his home. _"Some tea and a light meal should suffice before we retire,"_ he thought, trying to occupy himself.

It was some time before the two men made their way into the house. Raoul sat before a fire in the sitting room as Nadir cleared his throat. Raoul turned to his head in Nadir's direction and told him to help himself to fresh tea, fruit preserves, and crackers on the kitchen table.

"I apologize, I don't have much more to offer," Raoul said politely.

"It's more than enough, Monsieur. I thank you for your hospitality on behalf of myself and Erik," Nadir stated as Erik came around the corner and smirked.

"So sorry to _intrude_ on such a _tender _moment, but I need to know if you have a library in which I can entertain myself, while you two get your _beauty _sleep," Erik said rolling his eyes.

"_Erik!_" Nadir said with disdain.

"It's alright, Monsieur Khan," Raoul said, then addressed Erik's question. "Go down the hall and turn right. There is a small library in my study."

"_Messieurs_," Erik bowed mockingly as he turned and left them.

"I will _not _be a part of his absurdities. I suggest you do the same, Monsieur Khan," Raoul said calmly as he stood from the floor and walked over to the settee. He seated himself and stretched, enjoying the warmth of the fire. "Feel free to rest in any of the rooms upstairs. I think I shall stay down here for the night," Raoul said closing his eyes.

Nadir bid the Vicomte a good night as he walked to the kitchen to help himself to some tea before getting some rest.

* * *

Erik spent half of the night going through Raoul's things within his study. He had taken up a book at first to pass the time, but he quickly lost interest as he was distracted by the shelves of family heirlooms. 

Raoul seemed to live the picture perfect life. There were photos depicting a loving family as well as several trophies and awards for academic and athletic excellence. There were also several model ships that decorated a mantel, showcasing various medals Raoul had received during his time in the Navy.

Erik snorted in disgust as he turned and was drawn by a photo in the far corner of the room. As he drew closer to it, he noticed that this little section of the room was unlike the others.

It was simple.

A few seashells decorated across the surface and displayed was a photo of a small, chubby girl with long curly hair and a little freckled boy wrapping a scarf around her.

Erik took the picture and sat down on the settee beside the fire he had lit. He stretched out, making himself comfortable and then sighed. Burning the image into his mind he traced every detail with his eyes. There was no mistaking who the girl was. _"Christine has held that same sparkle in her eyes, even as a young child."_

Erik covered his thumb over Raoul and traced his finger across the image of the chubby girl's cheeks. Suddenly a piece of paper fell from within the frame, landing on Erik's chest.

Intrigued, he placed the picture to rest on the floor as he picked up the paper. Turning it in his hand, he realized it was a letter of some kind. He unfolded it and noted it was a torn piece from a journal, as he began to read its contents.

_I will always remember that day by the sea. Christine was so young, yet even then she was beautiful in every way…_

Erik paused as the pang of guilt from reading someone's private thoughts riddled him, but not as much as his jealousy wrought havoc on him from just those few words he read. His curiosity got the best of him in the end as he continued to read.

_Christine made me feel like any other person. She didn't treat me kindly because of my upbringing or place in society. She was always genuine to me. _

_Living the life of nobility is_ _no fairytale. I would trade it all for a regular life, without expectations or pressure of how one is to behave among the upper class. Christine was everything I wished to be. Being with her made me free. I will always love her for giving me those few moments in my youth to just be who I was. Wherever she goes, I will always keep her close to my heart. I will always be here if she needs me._

Erik paused again, on the edge of walking into the sitting room and choking the Vicomte in his sleep. He stood up and thought frantically,_ "He still loves her! This is all some twisted way of trying to get her back!"_

The letter fell from his hands to the floor and as he bent to pick it up, planning to destroy it into the fire, a word caught his attention. Taking a deep breath he dared to finish the letter.

_Christine has this great love for an Angel, a made up figure from a story her father would tell her night after night since she was born. No matter how much I tried to convince her this Angel was just a figment of her imagination, she never gave up on her Angel of Music. The love she harbored for this unearthly being, made up or not, was something I would never be able to compete with. I don't think I would want to, if it were true. When she would tell me of her Angel, I would become jealous of her unwavering devotion she had for this entity. A love like that no man could put asunder._

_I consider myself lucky to have her love as a friend and if that is the way God chooses to let me love her in the end, then so be it. I only pray she remains forever safe and happy. _

It was apparent that the Vicomte harbored love for Christine, who couldn't love her? But Erik realized that Raoul held no disillusions. Raoul respected Christine and as much as he loved her, he would not jeopardize his friendship with her. Raoul loved her enough to protect her and keep her safe, which Erik had seen during their tumultuous affair at the opera house when Raoul had come back into her life. Christine had no choice but to seek refuge in the safety of her childhood friend. Erik had deceived her, merely out of comfort and loneliness, but it soon fueled into madness as he became more desperate for that very love Raoul spoke of in his letter. They were both victims in the end of this great love Christine had to give.

"_But she chose me and he let her go. That boy gave us the chance to live a life of love he dreamed for himself,"_ Erik thought as he carefully placed the note back within the frame.

Placing the picture back in the corner, Erik sighed and made his way back to the settee. As he laid down and closed his eyes he thought stubbornly, _"It will take more than that for you to get into my good graces, Vicomte."_

_

* * *

_  
**Disclaimer**  
I'm still not affiliated with, nor do I own rights to the Chateau de la Fontenelle.


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER 39**

Philippe and Alphonse had an early start and made it to La Rochelle as expected, by nightfall. Philippe gathered that the Aiton brothers were behind them by several hours, which would give him plenty of time to converse with Madame Brigitte privately.

As the carriage pulled to the front of the Chateau de la Fontenelle, they were greeted by a giant of a man, every aspect of him intimidating.

"Comte Philippe?" The large man boomed.

"Oui. I take it Madame Brigitte has been waiting on my arrival?" Philippe grinned.

"Come with me," the burly man ordered.

Philippe turned to his driver and told him to head back to Paris. He had had enough of carriages and assured him he would be taking the train back to Paris once his business was completed.

"Comte, the horses need rest and…" Alphonse paused as Philippe held out a sack of coins.

"Go into town then and leave first thing in the morning. I don't care _what_ you choose to do, just get out of my sight!" Philippe said with annoyance.

Alphonse nodded then drove the carriage down the driveway, while Philippe disappeared into the chateau.

* * *

Luc watched over Christine making sure she was kept cool, as he wiped her face with a wet rag and then settled it upon her forehead. 

Meg watched him, making sure that he did not harm her. She murmured between her gag, eyeing him desperately.

"Will you _promise_ to keep your voice down? My brothers will not be happy with me, if they learn I've disobeyed them," Luc toned.

Meg nodded and he leaned over and removed her gag from her mouth.

"She _needs_ a doctor! Has her fever increased?" Meg asked concerned.

"To my knowledge, her fever has been steady. I gave her some water throughout the night and she has mentioned an Angel a few times," Luc answered.

"S'il vous plaît, can you not _help_ us? Perhaps you can convince your brothers to free us. If it's a question of money, we can pay you whatever it is that le Comte is offering," Meg bargained.

"I wish it were that simple, Mademoiselle, but it's not money that has us bound to le Comte," Luc said apologetically. He didn't wish to be any part of this type of service. His brothers always got into matters that seemed to end unfavorably.

Meg frowned, knowing there was nothing more she could do, but pray. Wherever they were going to end up, she hoped that Christine would finally get the medical attention Philippe had promised.

* * *

Nadir had the horses hitched and prepared out front. He made his way into the study and saw Erik sprawled out on the settee, one leg hanging off the side of it. _"No sleep indeed,"_ Nadir scoffed. He walked over to Erik and tapped him on the leg. 

"It is almost daylight. We should head out now if we are to make it to La Rochelle by nightfall."

Erik opened his left eye, looking at Nadir. "Daroga, you are a hideous sight to wake up to." He yawned and sat up, stretching his arms out, above his head.

Nadir rolled his eyes at Erik, cursing under his breath in a foreign tongue.

"If _I_ am a son of a camel, then _you_, my old friend, are the hump on my back…" Erik said as he stood up and gave Nadir a firm pat on the back, "_Always_ riding me… _always _there!"

Nadir looked at his friend with surprise. _"How in the world did he know the rarest form of Farsi? There's no way he could have comprehended that!"_

Erik chuckled at Nadir's astonished look, "Daroga, have you forgotten that I am well versed in a multitude of languages? You of all people should know that even those that are not common amongst the _average_ person do not elude me," he winked. "Now, come. We should delay no longer." He finished, as he walked out of the study.

"_And now he's apparently a mind reader?"_ Nadir shook his head and followed after Erik.

* * *

Philippe was led into a dimly lit room and was told to make himself comfortable, as the large fellow took his leave to alert the Madame of his arrival. 

Philippe removed his hat and loosened his cravat as he sat patiently.

"Bonsoir, Comte," Brigitte announced.

Philippe stood and kissed the Madame's hand. "Bonsoir, Madame Brigitte. I thank you for seeing me on such short notice, but you will find what I have to offer is worth your time."

"It has been a long time since you have graced us with your presence, Comte. You were one of my best customers and my chateau has suffered with the loss of your patronage. I hope you plan on rectifying the situation from your years of absence," Brigitte said in a sultry manner, running her hands along Philippe's back, and removing his jacket.

"I'm here to talk _business_, Brigitte, _not_ for personal gratification," Philippe said as he held on to her wrist and motioned to the chair before him.

Brigitte frowned and made herself comfortable before the Comte. "What is it that you have for me?"

Philippe leaned against his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "In a few hours, a carriage will arrive with two young and beautiful girls that I will leave in your care to do with as you see _fit_," he winked then continued, "I shall leave you with a sizeable amount of funds to make sure they _remain _in your care. They are _never _to leave here, Brigitte, do I make myself clear?" He leaned in and glared at the Madame.

"Who are these '_girls_' you wish to leave in my service?" Brigitte glared back with equal menace.

"Two _brats_ from the Opera Populaire that have caused me and my family much grief over the past several months. _They_ are of no importance beyond that. So, do we have a _deal_?" Philippe said firmly.

Brigitte brushed her hair back with her hands and smiled. The thought of two new girls, younger girls, plus the money, would make her bordello thrive once more to the glory it once was. "How much _money _are we speaking of, Comte? My chateau is in need of renovations and I would like to have…" Brigitte's eyes grew wide as she was interrupted by Philippe's figure amount.

"Half a million francs," Philippe said unblinking.

Brigitte stood up and walked behind Philippe, caressing his shoulders. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, "We have a deal."

* * *

The Aiton brothers pulled up to the Chateau de la Fontenelle just as Philippe and Madame Brigitte made their way out front. Luc scrambled to replace Meg's gag to her mouth as the carriage came to a stop. Marcel and Arnaud hopped down as Philippe addressed them. 

"Perfect timing, Marcel. Bring our _guests_ to the room that Madame Brigitte has prepared."

Brigitte pulled on Philippe's arm as the brothers brought the two girls past them and into the chateau. "What's the meaning of this? The blonde one has a large bruise to half the side of her face and the other…," Brigitte paused shaking her head, "…she is not even _lucid_!"

Philippe held Brigitte firmly by her shoulders and answered her with force. "The _bruise _will be gone in time and as for that brunette, I _suggest_ you fetch the doctor as she has acquired a fever due to her _unfortunate _accident to the head."

Brigitte looked at Philippe with disgust as she made her way through the front doors and swiftly up the stairs.

Philippe yelled after her as she fled. "The deal has been made, Madame! I expect you to keep your end of the bargain!"

* * *

Madame Brigitte burst into the room and told the brothers to get out, but not before grabbing hold of Luc's arm. "Speak to my bodyguard, Bruno. There is no mistaking him. Have him send for a doctor immediately." 

Luc nodded as he quickly exited the room.

Brigitte settled herself on the bed, beside Christine and placed her hand against her cheek. "This is not good," she whispered.

Meg sat in the corner, murmuring through her gag.

Brigitte walked over to her and removed the gag from her mouth.

"Has her fever worsened?" Meg breathed in worry.

"Why did this girl not have medical attention sooner? She has a very high fever," Brigitte confirmed.

"Le Comte would not allow it until we arrived. She has been with fever for two days now," Meg answered frantically.

Brigitte shook her head and looked at Meg. "I will see to it that you have your own quarters. The doctor will do his best with this one, but there is no way of knowing if she will survive or not." She turned and walked toward the door.

Meg spoke out before she could exit. "Can you not _help_ us? The Comte is insane! We should not be here!" Meg pleaded.

"Sorry, chéri. I have made a deal with le Comte and it will give stability to my chateau and the rest of the girls I house here. You two are a small sacrifice, a means to an end."

Brigitte walked out of the room and locked it.

She made her way to the entertaining salon and spotted Philippe and the two older brothers making themselves comfortable with her girls. The younger one sat at the table, uninterested.

"Ah Madame, how are our _guests_?" Philippe asked disingenuously.

"The doctor is with the brunette now and Céline has taken the blonde one to her own quarters." Brigitte answered.

"They _have _names, Madame. Christine is the _brunette_ and Meg is the _blonde_," Philippe said smugly.

"Well, _Christine_ is not doing so well. She may not survive and if that's the case, I wish to be no party to _murder_," Brigitte said nervously.

"Excuse me, I must get some air," Luc said quickly as he took his leave.

"He is not much of a _man_, this brother of yours," Philippe said, slapping his hand against Marcel's arm.

"Luc has _always_ been sensitive, our mother's doing. I bring him along merely for his brawn, otherwise he's useless," Marcel laughed.

"He sounds a lot like _my _brother, Raoul. I sympathize with you, Marcel," Philippe laughed uncontrollably as Marcel and Arnaud joined him.

Brigitte cleared her throat and looked at Philippe with seriousness. "I do not bury _corpses_, Comte."

"_If_ she dies, I'll bury her myself. At least I will not have to worry about her coming back from the grave, right boys?" Philippe looked at the two brothers and laughed hysterically again.

Brigitte furrowed her brow at the display before her. "You _all _have had too much to drink!"

Smacking Brigitte's backside, Philippe said, "Don't be so depressing, Madame. Tonight we're celebrating!"

Brigitte brushed Philippe's hand away firmly and walked off.

"_Heartless bitch_!" Philippe yelled out to Brigitte. "Let me get my money's worth! Ladies, my colleagues and I are in need of servicing!" Philippe said loudly as several of the working girls made their way back to the Comte's table.

* * *

Nadir stopped the carriage down the road from the Chateau de la Fontenelle. He knew that they couldn't just drive up to the chateau and expect them to hand over the girls. Looking to Erik he asked, "Well, my boy, we're here. What is the plan?" 

"First, we must get this carriage off of the road and keep it hidden. Then we venture on foot. We will need to surveil the house. I need to know how many men we are up against. Most importantly, we need to know where the girls are being kept. My guess is in one of the rooms upstairs," Erik detailed.

Raoul stepped out from the inside of the carriage and walked over to Nadir's side. "Are we to journey on foot now?" Raoul asked as he secured his pistol.

"_You_ will stay with the carriage, while Nadir and _I_ handle this," Erik ordered.

"_I_ am in this with you both. I will not stand idly by while the two of you go up against... God knows how many," Raoul said, standing his ground.

"I don't think you can convince him to stay, Erik, let him be," Nadir suggested.

"If I _feel _at any time…" Erik did not get to finish his words, as Raoul cut in.

"Oui, I know, you will kill me… so be it!" Raoul said impassively, as he made his way toward the chateau.

Erik growled as Nadir steered the carriage off the road and into a wooded thicket. They hopped down from the carriage and met up with Raoul, as they made their way up to the chateau.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
To Lindaleriel: Thanks so much for your support. It means a lot coming from an avid Raoul supporter. 

As I've said before, I am a diehard E/C supporter, but that doesn't mean Raoul can't get a little love too. He's an awesome supporting character if kept true. I'm pretty proud of how he's turning out in my fic. I never thought I could write him. Thanks Patrick Wilson for your inspiration... but lose the wig buddy, it has a life of its own! -giggles- And to everyone still reading, thanks for your endless support! I couldn't have gotten this far without you! -big hugs-

**Disclaimer**  
And again, no affiliation, rights, etc., to the Chateau de la Fontenelle.


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER 40**

Erik gestured to Nadir and Raoul to split up as they came before the chateau. Nadir ran towards the back, Raoul took to the left side of the house and he ran to the right side.

Erik grinned as he came upon an iron trellis that led up to the second floor balcony, which spanned almost completely across the chateau. He made his way up in stealth and secured himself at the top. With his cape around him and the cloak of midnight at his back, he was virtually invisible. He crouched low and began to look from window to window.

* * *

Nadir viewed the inside of the chateau from a shaded gazebo that sat by a large bay window. To his surprise, he only spotted three men, being entertained by seven women. 

He waited awhile, to be sure there were no others. As he was about to leave he saw a man with a bag and an older woman meet beyond the salon, just shy of his line of sight. The older woman shook the man's hand and they walked off. Nadir assumed to the front door. He left his position at the gazebo and carefully walked around to the left side of the chateau.

* * *

Raoul came across a servant's entrance and a small window that displayed the kitchen area. It was dimly lit and to his knowledge, empty. He tried the door, but it was locked. Cursing under his breath he turned to make his way to the front of the chateau. Suddenly, a giant arm came from behind him and held him back across his neck. Raoul tried to speak, but the vice-like hold left him no room to utter a sound, let alone breathe. 

"Only _mischief _is caused at this late hour and unfortunately for _you_, it shall be your last," the large voice boomed, applying pressure to his hold.

Just as Raoul was about to lose consciousness, the large man loosened his grip and Raoul heard a loud thud as the man fell to the floor behind him. Holding onto his neck and trying to fill his lungs with air, Raoul turned around and spotted Nadir pulling his Jambiya dagger from the large man's body and wiping his blade across the dead man's back.

"Never hesitate, Vicomte, for they will not," Nadir said calmly.

Raoul could only nod as he continued to catch his breath.

Nadir dragged the body into the bushes then grabbed Raoul by the arm. "Come, let us move to the front."

* * *

So far, all the rooms Erik had peered into turned up no sign of Christine or Meg. There were two more windows to inspect and Erik hoped they would be in one of them. Looking carefully into one, he spotted a blonde girl brushing her hair in front of a small mirror. As she finished, she stood up and turned. _"Meg!"_ he thought with relief, as he glanced around the room for any sign of Christine. He didn't see her and he began to worry. Erik tapped on the window to get Meg's attention. Meg furrowed her brow and looked around, and then she realized the sound was coming from the window. As she got closer, she could see a pair of eyes shrouded in darkness, looking back at her. Meg gasped in surprise as Erik motioned with his finger to his lip for her to be silent. 

Meg propped open the window. It only opened a few inches. "Christine _said_ you would come for us and I _prayed_ you would! Where is Maman? Where are the Gendarmes?"

"Shhhh… you are safe. There's no time for questions. Listen to me now. Stay in this room and no matter what you hear, do _not_ leave this room _unless_ Nadir, le Vicomte, or I come for you," Erik instructed.

Meg nodded as Erik asked, "Where is Christine?"

"She is in the room next door, but…" Meg paused.

"What is it, Meg?" Erik said impatiently.

"She is _very_ ill. Philippe did not allow a doctor to see her until now. It has been two days and…" Meg stopped talking as she realized he was gone.

* * *

Nadir and Raoul came to the front of the chateau, blending within the safety of the large bushes that surrounded the property. They watched as a man exited and took off down the road in his carriage. An older lady waved then disappeared into the chateau. 

Before Nadir and Raoul made to move from their spot, a young man came walking up the drive, whistling. Nadir came up with a plan and told Raoul to play along.

As the young man came closer, Raoul stepped away from the bushes and feigned being injured. "Please, someone, I have been stabbed by some lunatic!"

Luc ran over to the well-dressed man and bent over to help him up. "Monsieur, are you alright?"

Luc heard a click as he slowly stood up.

"He will be _just_ fine. _You,_ on the other hand, may not be _unless _you cooperate," Nadir said, holding Raoul's pistol in his hand.

Raoul took his pistol from Nadir as he secured their captive with his Jambiya.

"What is it that you want to know?" Luc asked nervously.

"Who are you and what is your purpose here at the chateau?" Raoul said simply.

"My name is Luc, Luc Aiton, and I am here with my two brothers Marcel and Arnaud. I do not work here, Monsieur," Luc answered.

Nadir scratched his head. "Two? But there were three men I spotted inside."

"That would be le Comte Philippe de Chagny, Monsieur," Luc said without hesitation.

"Tell me boy, there was a man that left moments ago and an older woman saw him out. Do you know of whom I speak?" Nadir inquired.

"That was Dr. Monroe. He came to tend to Mademoiselle Christine and the older woman you speak of is Madame Brigitte, owner of this bordello," Luc confirmed.

Raoul and Nadir looked at each other and then Raoul turned to Luc and asked, "Mademoiselle Christine, is she alright? Did you see another girl with her?

"Mademoiselle Christine is ill and to my knowledge, it does not look good. Mademoiselle Meg is in better condition, aside from her large bruise that covers the left side of her face," Luc said sorrowfully.

Raoul cocked his pistol and shoved it under Luc's chin. "If you laid a hand on _either_one of them I _swear _before God to _end _your life!"

"Monsieur, I did _not_ touch either one of them. They were injured before my brothers and I transported them from the Comte's property in Fontainebleau. Please, my brothers may deserve whatever it is the devil has intended for them, but I have wanted _nothing_ to do with this entire affair. You _must_ believe me," Luc pleaded.

"There is no way to know if you speak the truth or not and we certainly cannot have you running around until this matter is sorted," Nadir spoke honestly.

"I can remedy the situation," Raoul said as he raised his gun in the air and brought it down swiftly to the back of Luc's head.

Before Nadir could warn Raoul, it was too late. As the gun made contact with Luc's head, rendering him unconscious, the pistol fired into the air toward the direction of the chateau. The sound of shattering glass could be heard as Raoul cringed.

Nadir looked at Raoul sharply. "Prepare yourself! We're about to have company."

* * *

Erik rushed to the last window as Meg told him she was ill. Looking inside, he saw no one except for a figure lying on the bed. He noticed brown curly locks, hanging off the side of it. _"Christine!"_ he thought as his heart raced. Erik pushed against the window, but like the other, it only opened a few inches. The only way he could access the room would be to break the glass. _"There is no easy way to do it. I will just have to kill whoever comes through that door and gets in my way!"_ Erik thought with finality. 

As Erik was about to break the glass he heard a shot ring out. The bullet whirred past him and shattered the window. _"That moronic Vicomte! He almost killed me and now everyone will be alerted to our presence!"_

Erik brushed the glass aside and quickly brought himself by Christine's side. He looked at her tenderly and leaned forward to whisper to her. "Wake for me, mon ange," Erik said as he placed a kiss to her lips. They were warm against his as he removed his right glove to feel her forehead. Christine was burning up and as much as he tried to coax her, she did not stir. He wrapped her within the blanket and lifted her off the bed.

* * *

Philippe and the two Aiton brothers stood up immediately upon hearing the gunshot from outside of the chateau. 

"You two go investigate the disturbance. I'm going upstairs to make sure our guests are secure," Philippe instructed as he readied his pistol.

As Philippe ran up the stairs, Marcel and Arnaud took up their pistols and scrambled for the front door. They opened the door slightly inspecting the grounds through the crack. They could make out no sign of anyone. All that could be heard was the sound of crickets in the night.

Both men stepped outside and carefully walked around the grounds, each in opposite directions.

* * *

Nadir and Raoul watched the brothers as they separated. Nadir nudged Raoul to follow the man on the left. 

Nodding, Raoul took his leave of the Persian.

Nadir bound Luc's unconscious form, and then ran off to the right side of the chateau, after the second man.

As Marcel glanced up toward the iron trellis leading to the second floor balcony, Nadir came up swiftly behind him and slit his throat. Marcel never saw it coming. Nadir wiped his Jambiya blade against the man's jacket and dragged his body into the bushes.

Looking to the trellis, Nadir placed his dagger between his teeth and climbed to the top of the second floor. He came upon a shattered window and as he was about to take a look inside, he heard Philippe's voice beyond the room.

* * *

Raoul followed Arnaud and watched him carefully as the man crouched before the bushes to where the body of Bruno, the large bodyguard, now lay. 

He cocked his pistol and pointed it in the direction of Arnaud. "Do not move, Monsieur, or I will be forced to shoot," he said, steadying his aim.

Arnaud slowly rose from his crouched position and held onto his pistol firmly.

"I _said_ do not move!" Raoul repeated.

Arnaud quickly aimed at the Vicomte and shot as Raoul did the same. Arnaud fell to the ground as Raoul's bullet struck the man dead between the eyes. Simultaneously, he hissed, realizing Arnaud's bullet had struck him through his right shoulder, exiting clean through the other side. _"At least I am still alive," _Raoul thought as he turned back to the direction of the front of the chateau.

* * *

Erik held Christine in his arms as he faced the window to exit with her. Philippe burst into the room and aimed his pistol at the dark figure before him. 

Erik froze as he heard the click of a gun.

"I shall put a bullet through your brain, should you choose to move _any_ further. Now, turn around _slowly_, so that I may have the _pleasure_ of _killing_ you _face to face_."

* * *

Raoul staggered up the stairs and eyed all the doors before him. Trying each one, he found them locked as he urgently whispered Meg's name. _"No doubt these ladies are cowering in their rooms from fear of the unknown,"_ he thought. 

As he came to the second to last door, he heard her as he whispered again, "Meg?"

"Raoul, is it _really_ you?" Meg asked desperately.

"Oui, little Meg. Can you not open the door for me?"

"This room is kept locked by a key."

"Step away from the door," Raoul said as he braced himself for the pain.

With an excruciating grunt he forcefully pushed against the door with the right side of his body. He fell to the ground as the door gave and Meg quickly wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh thank God you are here, mon ami!" Meg said with relief. As she looked at him with tears in her eyes, she noticed he was bleeding.

"Mon dieu! You're injured," she gasped.

"The bullet has passed, Meg. I shall be fine," he said as he brushed away her tears.

Looking around the room, Raoul asked confused, "Where is Christine? I thought she would be in here with you."

"She is in the room next door. Erik went to get her and told me to stay here," Meg answered.

"He's right, Meg. Stay here and I _promise_ I will come back for you. We're not out of danger yet. I will check on Christine," Raoul said as he stood up.

"But Raoul, you're hurt. How could you _possibly_…" Meg paused as Raoul reached his hand out to help her up from the floor.

"I will be fine. Brace the door with a chair after I've gone," he looked into her eyes and kissed her tenderly on the lips, then turned on his heel and exited the room.

Meg was left breathless, completely forgetting to bar the door.

* * *

Erik turned carefully at the man's insistence. As he came face to face with the Comte, he sneered and laughed eerily at the man aiming the gun at him. 

Philippe couldn't believe his eyes. His complexion paled upon his realization of who the dark imposing figure was.

The Phantom of the Opera stood before him, alive.

"Am I _imagining_ this? You're _dead_! My brother _killed_ you! What manner of _trickery _is this?" Philippe demanded.

"You cannot _kill _someone who is _already_ dead," Erik threw his voice menacingly in the ear of the Comte.

* * *

Nadir held his Jambiya firmly in his hand, ready to throw it, should the situation get out of hand. He listened carefully to the words being exchanged between the two men. _"Erik, I hope you have a plan to get yourself out of this one,"_ Nadir thought as he prayed Allah to give his friend strength.

* * *

Raoul stopped before the half open door as he heard his brother's voice. Peering through the crack he could see his Philippe's gun aimed toward Erik and in his arms lay Christine. 

Taking up his pistol, he opened the door. "Enough of this, Philippe. It's over!" He announced firmly, pointing his gun at his brother.

"Good of you to show up, _brother_. It would appear you have some _explaining _to do. Did you not _banish _this beast to the pits of hell or did you _actually_ show some compassion for this _thing_?" Philippe demanded.

"You're not well, Philippe. End this _insanity_ and let me get you the help you _need_," Raoul insisted.

Philippe did not lower his aim, nor did Raoul.

Erik watched as the tension increased. His thoughts turned to his Punjab, but with Christine in his arms, he could do nothing but remain still. He didn't want to endanger her any further.

* * *

Meg's curiosity grew as she heard the raised voices next door. She made her way to the room and carefully peeked inside to see what was going on. 

She gripped onto the frame of the door, as she saw Erik with Christine, Philippe pointing his gun at them both, and Raoul pointing his gun at his brother.

The sudden standstill silence was unnerving. No one dared to make a move.

* * *

Philippe smiled and then emitted a low snicker, which grew into a maniacal laugh. "This 'insanity' _will _end, dear brother. I grow tired of _this_ and of _you_!" 

As Philippe took his eyes off of Erik, he aimed the gun at Raoul and was about to shoot him, but Meg pushed the door open to knock Philippe off balance and he ended up shooting the wall.

Meg ran into Raoul's arms and started crying.

Raoul could not believe Meg was sacrificing her safety for his.

Erik took the brief opportunity to place Christine onto the floor and then he reached for his Punjab, slinging it around the neck of the Comte.

Nadir stepped in from the balcony and Erik nodded at him as Nadir crouched over Christine and picked her up.

"Now you _die_, Comte!" Erik growled furiously as he tightened the Punjab around Philippe's neck.

"_Wait!_ Please, do _not_ kill him! We can take him in so he can get the help that he needs! For God's sake, you don't want to _murder_ him!"

"Oh, but you see? I _do_!" He roared at Raoul without taking his eyes off of Philippe. His only desire was to kill the man caught within his trusty lasso. "There will be _no_ golden chariot awaiting _you_ where you're going, Comte! Hellfire shall _consume_ you _forever_, in the _bowels_ of the _devil's_ lair!"

Erik spit viciously in Philippe's face and wrapped the slack around his hand, increasing the pressure around his victim's neck.

"I believe you to be a _better _man than that, _regardless_ of your past crimes!" Raoul yelled, trying to reach Erik, "You don't want his blood on your hands! Prove to me that you're _not _a monster, but a _man_ who is _worthy _of Christine." All Raoul could do was wait, which seemed like an eternity. He hoped that by mention Christine's name, Erik would be able to come to his senses.

Christine was the only one that could ever hold Erik's attention. He heard Raoul's words, but mostly it was his Angel's face that flashed before his eyes. He held his Punjab firmly around the neck of the Comte, watching his face turn a dark shade of purple, before submitting. He closed his eyes and then screamed loudly in anguish as he shoved Philippe to the ground, removing his Punjab from around his neck and kicking the Comte's gun across the floor, to the other end of the room.

Raoul got up, quickly binding his brother's hands and thanked Erik for the mercy he bestowed upon Philippe.

"I do not need _your _thanks! Just be sure to keep _him_ away from _me_ and my _wife_ or it will take God himself, to stop me from ending his _feeble _existence upon this earth!" Erik threatened as he curled up his Punjab.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
-annoying announcer voice- "Is this the end of the line for our heroes? Will Christine get the dire medical attention she needs? Will Raoul be able to finally get along with Erik? Will Nadir have more fun killing people with his Jambiya dagger? Stay tuned until tomorrow... same phantom time... same phantom channel!" -grins- I'm such a stinker! Hang in there folks! Thanks everyone for the fab reviews. Everyone hates Philippe, so do I! -giggles- I am glad I have been able to give Raoul the much needed respect he deserves. I still love Erik best, but Raoul isn't so bad, is he? -smiles- More fun to come next chapter... I promise! 


	41. Chapter 41

**CHAPTER 41**

Erik directed Nadir to bring Christine to the carriage and drive it up to the front of the chateau, while he kept an eye on Raoul, Philippe and Meg. As they made their way down the stairs, Philippe began to laugh.

"Shut him up, Vicomte, or I will _silence_ him myself!" Erik said irritably.

"I had such _high_ hopes for you, Raoul. We could have _easily_ been rid of them and blamed it on _le fantôme!_" Philippe said, the madness apparent in his eyes.

"_Silence_, Philippe! Do not make this any _worse _than it is," Raoul warned.

"I should have _known _you would _never _be the _man_ our father _thought_ you would be." Eyeing him wildly, he fumed, "You are _no_ _brother_ of _mine_!" He grabbed at Raoul's side, securing his pistol.

Erik quickly moved in front of Meg as he saw Philippe take hold of Raoul's pistol.

There was a loud bang then Meg screamed as Erik fell back, taking the force of the shot to his chest.

Meg crouched down to Erik and panicked as the blood began to soak his shirt immediately.

Raoul struggled with Philippe for control of the gun.

It went off again and struck Meg's right leg.

As Raoul heard Meg's piercing shriek, he thought the worst as he continued to struggle with his brother. With a maddening rush of strength and absolute blinding fury, Raoul pushed his brother over the banister of the staircase and Philippe fell.

The gruesome crack of Philippe's neck against the marbled floor resounded through the hall as Raoul clutched the railing and slowly lowered himself upon the staircase. "Oh, dear _God_!" Raoul uttered, horrified, as he broke down in tears at the realization of what he had just done.

"Raoul," Meg breathed as she tried to block out the pain from her gunshot wound.

Raoul held his tears back and looked over his shoulder. "Meg? You're alive?" He asked, confused.

"The bullet struck my leg, mon ami, but Erik, he has been shot in the chest. He jumped in front of me as your brother went for the gun. His pulse is faint. Please, we must get him to a hospital right away," Meg said hurriedly.

Raoul gathered his composure as best he could and picked Meg up carefully.

* * *

Nadir pulled the carriage to the front and ran into the chateau as heard the two shots from inside. As he came through the door he saw the lifeless body of the Comte on the marbled floor, his head at an unnatural angle. Looking to the staircase he saw Raoul carrying Meg down the stairs and a dark figure sprawled across the staircase beyond them. 

"What in the name of Allah…" Nadir was interrupted.

"Help me get Meg inside the carriage and then you must help me with Erik. We need to get them to the nearest hospital at once. I will explain on the way," Raoul said in haste.

Once Meg was placed within the carriage, Nadir and Raoul rushed to Erik's side, lifting him, and bringing him out of the chateau. Carefully, they placed Erik upon the floor of the carriage, asking Meg to keep an eye on him and Christine. Raoul climbed into the driver's seat and waited for Nadir to join him.

"Vicomte, you will have to take them to the hospital. Someone needs to take care of things here. We cannot leave this place like this," Nadir said rationally.

Raoul nodded and replied, "You're right. I shall come back for you once I have secured them with proper medical attention."

Raoul took off down the drive in a hurried rush as Nadir made his way back into the chateau.

* * *

Brigitte had feared for her life. She had heard all the gunshots and quickly retreated to the cellar in hopes of going undetected until the chaos subsided. Nadir found her cowering behind two large casks. Much to her dismay and screams of protest, the Persian pulled her above ground. 

As they came into the hall, leading to the front door, she saw the body of the Comte sprawled out unnaturally upon the marbled floor. She gasped and became frantic.

"Don't kill me, please! I'll do whatever it is you ask!" Brigitte begged.

"Madame, I have no intentions of ending your life this day, but if you wish to continue life as you know it, then you will aid me with a few _matters_ that need to be taken care of. If you wish to keep your bordello, you will not involve the authorities. I should think they would not take kindly to your aiding and abetting the kidnappings of two young women," Nadir said coolly.

Brigitte agreed to help Nadir. She did not want to spend the rest of her life in jail or worse, hanged. She followed Nadir out front, where they took up a now conscious Luc and brought him into the sitting room.

Nadir recounted the events that had befallen his two brothers and Luc simply nodded with acceptance.

"I'm not surprised. A fate such as this would have befallen them sooner or later, Monsieur. I was never close with my two older brothers after our parents died. If you allow it, I would like to give them a proper burial in our hometown of Sens. Hopefully God will forgive them of their sins in the afterlife," Luc said with compassion.

"You're a good man, Luc. Be sure to continue your life as such," Nadir said shaking Luc's hand firmly.

Brigitte supplied the men with white sheets to wrap the brothers' bodies in and Nadir assisted Luc in loading them into the carriage.

"Journey well," Nadir said simply as Luc climbed into position.

Luc nodded as he took up the reins and maneuvered the horses down the driveway, headed back home to Sens.

Moving to the side of the chateau, Nadir and Brigitte came across Bruno's body. Together, the dragged him behind the bordello, deciding to bury him in the wooded area beyond them.

As they finished burying him, Nadir said a prayer in Farsi, since Brigitte did not have a chosen faith.

"Now, there is one final task to attend to," Nadir said as he and Brigitte made their way back inside the house.

Wrapping Philippe's body within a sheet, Nadir moved him to the sitting area as Brigitte went to check on her girls upstairs.

"Is everything in order?" He questioned Brigitte, as she came into the sitting room.

"Oui. Their nerves were simply on edge. I have provided each of them with a sedative to help them sleep. They have no knowledge of what has transpired here tonight nor do they care to recall it," she answered.

"Very well. I trust they shall not be a problem, given their line of work," Nadir stated honestly.

As they were about to decide what to do with the Comte's body, Raoul came into the room wearily.

"Vicomte? Is everything alright?" Nadir asked as he got up to help Raoul over to the settee.

Raoul leaned against the back of the settee and nodded. "There was a hospital not far from here. Being that it was an odd hour admitting three people at once, it was almost impossible and it would have been _if _I were not a Vicomte. For once in my life I am actually proud to be one," Raoul said to his amazement. "They took Erik immediately since he was in the worst condition. Christine was taken to her own room and given medication. They will need to wait and see how her body reacts to the medicines before they can assess a proper diagnosis. The bullet in Meg's leg was not deep and they were able to remove it without surgery. As for myself, as you can see, they have cleaned and dressed the wound," Raoul explained.

"It seems you have come through for us, Vicomte. I praise Allah that he saw it fit for you to accompany us, against much protest," Nadir acknowledged.

Raoul focused on the white bundle in the middle of the room. "Is that…" Raoul paused as Nadir answered.

"I have taken the liberty of wrapping le Comte's body and I was trying to decide what the best course of action would be in this matter," Nadir said carefully.

"You don't have to involve yourself, Monsieur Khan. I will give my brother a proper burial in the de Chagny family plot in Paris," Raoul confirmed.

A puzzled look flashed across the Persians face. "I beg your pardon, Vicomte, but how will you explain his untimely demise?"

Raoul did not need time to think it through. He would simply fabricate the truth. "He came here seeking his usual entertainment and had had too much to drink. He fell to his death trying to make his way down the stairs and Madame Brigitte called for me to collect his body. My parents know of his follies here in his youth. With their positions in France's society, they will not want for any of this to become public knowledge." Raoul took a deep breath and finalized, "The matter is now closed, Monsieur Khan. I shall leave with my brother's body at dawn."

As daylight settled upon the Chateau de la Fontenelle, Nadir helped Raoul with the Comte's body. They settled it within the carriage, and then Raoul secured the door.

Turning to address Nadir, Raoul said, "I appreciate everything you have done for me, Monsieur Khan. I only wish I could have known you under better circumstances, but nonetheless it has been a pleasure making your acquaintance," he said genuinely as he offered his hand to the Persian.

Nadir took his hand and gripped it firmly. "It's been a pleasure, Vicomte. You are a man of honor and have gained my respect. May Allah grant you safe passage."

Raoul smiled at Nadir and climbed up into position. "Monsieur Khan? See to it that when you visit the others in the hospital that you mention you are there on my behalf. You will be treated to whatever it is you need. I will be sure to let Madame Giry know of the situation immediately upon my arrival in Paris." He then took up the reins and clucked his tongue, making his way down the driveway and back to Paris.

* * *

Nadir readied one of Madame Brigitte's horses from the small stable in the back of the chateau. Upon his final inspection of the property, he sat down with Brigitte in the sitting room. 

"Madame, I _trust _I will not need to come back here again," Nadir spoke firmly.

"I will not give you a _reason_ to, Monsieur. You have my word," Brigitte said simply.

Nadir eyed her carefully. He had a keen sense of when someone was not being fully honest. She seemed genuine enough. He gathered she was just thankful for the entire ordeal to be over with.

He held out an envelope to her. "For your trouble, Madame... to repair the damage to your chateau, for the horse you have supplied me with, and for your _continued_ silence."

Without hesitation she took it and placed it within her bosom.

"I shall take my leave now. Bon jour, Madame," Nadir said as he stood and bowed before her. He turned and exited the chateau, leaving Brigitte to her bordello.

Brigitte breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind the Persian. Taking the envelope from her bosom she opened it to view the contents within. Inside was 250,000 francs.

She fainted immediately at the sight of it all.

* * *

Nadir climbed up onto the horse and took off down the road toward the hospital. He laughed out loud as he galloped down the rode imagining the look upon the Madame's face opening the envelope he had given her. 

He had pilfered the money from Philippe's jacket when he was wrapping him within the sheet. He saw it fitting to give the Madame half of the amount and the other half would go to whatever he would need to secure safe passage for him and his friends, back to The House of Roses. Whatever amount remained after that, he would give to the church.

"_Perhaps it will atone for some of Philippe's sins, gaining him some sort of penance with his God,"_ he thought with a shrug. _"I had better stick with what I know best,"_ he concluded as he said a prayer to Allah on behalf of his friends he was on his way to see.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
You guys have been so great to me and your patience has been incredible. I have to say I am going to need a few days off. I have a friend coming in from California that I haven't seen in ages, so I fear I will not be able to update again until Monday. This was a last minute thing, so my apologies for not being able to warn everyone sooner. I hope you all have enjoyed the story so far. I promise to update as soon as I can. -hugs- 

**Disclaimer**  
I still do not own any rights nor am I affiliated with the Chateau de la Fontenelle.


	42. Chapter 42

**CHAPTER 42**

Nadir secured his horse on the side of the hospital and made his way through the front doors. He approached the nurse at the front desk and the woman looked at him oddly.

"Can I help you, Monsieur?" She asked, staring at the foreigner before her.

"I am here on behalf of Le Vicomte de Chagny. I wish to know the status of the guests he has entrusted to your staff's care," Nadir said with an elegant flair. He was relishing in playing the part of an important nobleman's aid.

"Ah Monsieur Khan, yes, we have been expecting you. My apologies. Please, come with me. I have their charts right here. It is unfortunate about that terrible intruder that interrupted le Vicomte's private party last night. I pray they catch that madman." She gathered the charts before her and quickly made her way around the desk.

Nadir followed her down the hall, amused by the tale she was unfolding before him. She brought him before the first room and said, "This is Mademoiselle Giry's room. Her chart says she is stable. The bruise and gunshot wound she suffered at the hands of that intruder should heal given time. The wound to her leg did not require surgery. The bullet was removed easily. Aside from needing medication and the use of a cane until she is completely healed, she is free to go home at anytime. Do you wish to go in and see her?"

"Yes, I shall not be long," Nadir answered.

"I will wait here for you then, Monsieur," the nurse assured.

Nadir walked into the room and Meg was lying in the bed reading a book.

"You seem to be faring well, Meg," he said as Meg placed her book upon her lap and beamed a smile at him.

"Monsieur Khan! It is so good to see you. Is Maman on her way? She will be amused when she finds out I have to walk with a cane until I am fully healed. Is that not ironic, Monsieur? Where is Raoul? Have you heard any news on Christine or Erik's condition?"

Meg rambled. She would always be full of questions no matter the situation.

"I will be seeing Christine and Erik shortly. I just came by to let you know that le Vicomte is on his way back to Paris and he will alert your mother to your whereabouts once he arrives," Nadir answered.

Meg frowned hearing that Raoul had left, but she knew he had important matters to attend to as she thought back on what had happened on the staircase in the chateau. He would need his space and she hoped that given time, he would make the effort to see her once she was back in Paris.

"The nurse says you are to be discharged at any time. I will check on the others and come back for you, if you are ready to leave," Nadir said simply.

"Oui, I am not one for hospitals, Monsieur," Meg said, wrinkling her noise.

"There is a small inn down the road. We shall stay there until we are able to move Erik and Christine back to their estate," Nadir decided.

Meg agreed to Nadir's suggestion and he told Meg he would be back shortly as he exited her room. She took up her book and sighed. _"It will be good to be back home, once we get there."_

Nadir met with the nurse in the hall and they made their way to the next room. "Mademoiselle Dawnay," the nurse said stopping before the next room.

Nadir furrowed his brow wondering if the nurse had made a mistake.

"It seems that the medication has brought her fever down, but she is in a coma. The odds are likely not to be permanent, but it is really a matter of time, Monsieur. It says here she was given stitches to a wound she had to her head, which she received during an outing with le Vicomte's cousin a few days ago. Pieces of skin were removed because they were infected and could have caused gangrene to set in. The wound should heal just fine, though there will be a scar due to the tissue loss, but with as much hair as she has, no one will ever be the wiser. It is a shame they did not bring her in sooner, but I guess the estate staff did not think it was serious. That tends to happen often to those with little medical expertise," the nurse finished.

Nadir knew without a doubt that the nurse spoke of Christine, but the alias still confused him. He peeked into the door to make sure it was indeed Christine. He was relieved to see her resting peacefully in bed. "Due to her current state, I will sit in with her at another time. My main concern at the moment is of…" Nadir was interrupted as the nurse looked at the final chart and spoke.

"Of course, my apologies, Monsieur Khan. You would be most concerned for le Vicomte's cousin, Etienne de Chagny," the nurse said, placing a hand onto Nadir's shoulder.

Nadir was at a loss for words. _"Etienne de Chagny? Cousin? What is going on here?"_ He thought curiously.

"His chart says that he suffered from an incident in his youth, a fire that damaged the right side of his face," the nurse said apologetically.

Nadir nodded and asked her to continue.

"He suffered a gunshot wound to the chest trying to protect le Vicomte's guests during the dinner party. Miraculously, none of his major organs were struck. The bullet was partially lodged between the third and fourth section of the corpus sternum and was carefully removed during his surgery. He is under heavy sedation, but barring any infection, he should make a full recovery within six to eight weeks," the nurse confirmed.

"I wish to see him, if I may," Nadir requested.

"Follow me, Monsieur," she said leading him a few doors down from Christine's room.

She left Nadir before the door and told him if he needed anything that she would be more than happy to assist him, and then she took her leave, heading back to her desk.

Nadir entered the room and looked upon his friend with concern. Erik was paler than usual and he had a heavy bandage across his chest. He seemed to have a slight distressed look upon his unmasked face, as Nadir moved closer to him. _"It's either the light coming in through the windows or he knows he is without his mask,"_ Nadir thought amused.

He walked over to the windows and drew the curtains shut. He brought a chair beside Erik's bed and lit the small gas lamp on the table next to him. Looking into the desk drawer, he found Erik's mask sitting inside, mocking him. _"It has a life of its own, with its master's demeanor,"_ Nadir snorted and pushed the drawer shut.

As he sat watching Erik's chest rise and fall, he thought back on what the nurse had said. He laughed at the irony of Erik's never ending hate for the Vicomte, yet once again he would be indebted to him for not only covering his identity, but giving him the de Chagny title to ensure he was given the best medical attention possible. Had he gone under any other name, he probably would have died during surgery. Nadir chuckled again at the thought of Erik's reaction once he was well enough to hear the tale.

"Daroga, did I _not_ tell you before that you are a hideous sight to wake up to?" Erik coughed then moaned at the searing burn in his chest.

"You're alive? Pity... I had thought I would_ finally _be rid of you, old dog," Nadir chuckled.

"Be _glad_ I am confined to this bed. You would not have _any_ reason to be laughing as you are now," Erik tried to sound imposing, but then coughed again.

"There will be plenty of time for us to try and kill each other with our words, but for now, rest, my friend. You will need it with the injury you sustained," Nadir advised.

"Before I rest, I must know something, Daroga," Erik asked with seriousness.

"Christine is two doors down from you. Her fever has broken, but she remains unconscious, and Meg is well. I will take her to an inn down the road from here. We shall be staying there until we are able to move you and Christine back to The House of Roses _and_ le Comte _is _dead," Nadir said in anticipation of his friend's inquiry.

Erik closed his eyes and nodded. Before he drifted back to sleep he asked, "Nadir?"

"What is it, Erik?" He asked.

"Is it possible to have Christine moved to my room?" He asked hopefully.

"I will do what I can," Nadir assured.

With the incredible story Raoul had fabricated, it would be easy for Nadir to pass Christine off as Erik's fiancé. He smiled at the Vicomte's ingeniousness.

* * *

Nadir took Meg from the hospital and secured two rooms at the inn down the road. The following day, he left Meg with some funds to get whatever she needed from the various shops nearby. He told her he would go back to the hospital to sit in with Erik for awhile, but would back by dinnertime. 

Returning to the hospital, he was pleased to hear the arrangements had been made to move Christine to Erik's room. The staff believed them to be engaged, so no one questioned the request. He made sure that they kept the curtains drawn at all times and insisted that fresh roses be placed around the room. Nadir could not stand the sterile smell of the room and was sure Erik would agree with him.

As Nadir entered the room, the aroma of the roses was like a breath of fresh air. No doubt the two lovers would appreciate the sentiment. He seated himself in the chair by Erik's bed and as he watched over the two, he hummed a little Persian song he learned as a child. He leaned against the backing of the chair, trying to get comfortable.

"Remind me to give you lessons of the great classical masters, Daroga. Your Persian tunes give me a headache," Erik said with a slight smile.

"You know very well I have never had an ear for your Bach and Mozart. There is just something _sinister_ about men who wear wigs," Nadir said grinning in his chair.

"How I _wish_ I could have strangled you earlier," Erik said with a sigh.

"Ah, but my friend, you would not have these comforts before you had you done so," Nadir said proudly.

Erik had noticed the roses. The smell had been welcoming to his senses, but he did not expect what he had seen as he turned his head to his left. Christine lay peacefully beside him in a separate bed.

"Nadir, you beautiful bastard! You've outdone yourself!" Erik said with enthusiasm, then coughed and hissed at the pain.

"Do not overexert yourself, my boy, or I will be forced to separate the two of you," Nadir said teasingly.

"How did you manage this?" Erik asked curiously.

"It is a rather long story and I do not wish to excite you anymore than I have today," Nadir said cautiously.

"I believe Christine and I will be here for some time. I can stand to hear a tale or two," Erik tried to persuade Nadir.

"I fear you will not fancy what I have to say, old boy," Nadir said honestly.

"What do you have to say, Daroga? I know eventually you will have to tell me," Erik reasoned.

Rubbing his chin in thought, Nadir took a deep breath then began to tell Erik everything that had happened after he had fallen unconscious on the stairs in the chateau.

"You must keep up with this façade that le Vicomte has provided us with. Until we leave this place, you are Etienne de Chagny, cousin of le Vicomte de Chagny, and your fiancé is Christine Dawnay," Nadir insisted.

Erik's head swam amongst the sea of confusion as he tried to process everything Nadir had said to him. He still hated the boy and pretending to be his cousin, taking his family name, was a severe blow to his pride, but what he wondered most of all was why Raoul continued to do these things for him.

"Erik? Do you need the nurse?" Nadir asked as he viewed the discomfort in his friend's face.

"I'm fine, Nadir. I think I just need some rest now," Erik answered as he sighed heavily.

"I shall leave you to rest then. I shall be back in the morning. Do you require anything?" Nadir asked casually.

"Not at the moment. Thank you, Nadir," Erik said as he closed his eyes and reached for Christine's hand.

Nadir exited the room and made his way back to the inn.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Hello all! Yep, I am back. I've had a heck of a weekend. It consisted of many late nights and drinking. I never want to see another martini glass again! -wink- Anyways, you've all been fantastic and the reviews were, as always, humbling.

**To:** lilblondegiry, I'd like to welcome you aboard. I am glad you are enjoying my first fic so far. -hugs-

**To:** Lindaleriel, Sorry about the confusing email. Here is the Chapter I was referring to. I blame all the melon martini's I had for the mix up. -grins-

**To:** AslanHeart, Yep, I know who YOU are and NO I'm not done with Erik yet, so you have to wait. -giggles-

**To:** Ewanlover64 and my-echo, I am glad you are both enjoying Raoul. He's not a bad guy, just misunderstood. -smiles- Seriously though, hopefully others will realize his potential. I'll always love Erik best, but Raoul makes for a great supporting character. I thank my own story for making me realize this myself. -love ya Patrick/Raoul-

**To:** SerenityEmrys, Glad to see you're still with me. No worries about the homework thing. I know how school can be. The story will always be here for you when you have the time for it. -comfort hugs-

And to all my devoted readers, you are the best for sticking with me from the beginning. As always, I couldn't do this without your support! Love ya all! -Erik twirling cape hugs-


	43. Chapter 43

**Author's Note**

I have titled Raoul's parents as the Marquis and Marquise de Chagny, as well as given them first names. They are going to be key characters throughout the rest of this story, so, should there be any discrepancies on my part, hopefully it will not take away from the story at all.

**CHAPTER 43**

It was just past noon when Raoul drove up to the gates of his parent's estate. Raoul waved at the guards and they opened the gate to the young Vicomte. He brought the carriage to the front and was greeted by Hugues, the butler.

"Do not take the carriage to the stables, I shant be long. There is an urgent matter I need to discuss with my parents and then I will need to head to the church. Please send a message to Father Mallery and tell him there is a private family matter I wish to discuss," Raoul ordered.

The Marquis and Marquise de Chagny were in the sitting room as Raoul announced himself.

His mother immediately ran to him. "My son! It has been too long," his mother said as she kissed his cheeks and continued. "What manner of injury is this, my darling Raoul?"

"I was thrown from my horse the other day as my pistol misfired," Raoul said obscurely. He hated lying to his mother, but in this instance he had no choice.

"Do not coddle him so, Anaïs!" His father said sternly.

"I shall treat him as I wish, Jérôme. He will always be my baby," Anaïs smiled at Raoul.

"Come, Raoul. Sit with your mother and tell me how you have been," Anaïs suggested.

"Father, Mother, I am not hear for pleasantries. I bear grave news," Raoul said in a serious tone.

"Well, come out with it boy. Your mother and I have not got all day!" Jérôme said uninterested, as he continued to read the morning paper.

"There is no easy way to say this. It's Philippe. He's dead," Raoul said lowering his head.

Raoul's mother gasped, "It is not true!" She fell back into the settee and looked at her son with disbelief.

Raoul sat beside her and took her hand. "I'm sorry, mother," Raoul said trying to comfort her.

The Marquis de Chagny stood and walked over to his son. Pulling him up by the arm, he looked at him with malcontent, and then slapped him across the face.

"Jérôme!" Anaïs yelled.

"Mother, please. I'm alright," Raoul assured.

"Explain, boy!" The Marquis demanded.

"He was in La Rochelle for the 'entertainment,' father. He had too much to drink and fell over the banister of the stairs, breaking his neck," Raoul answered.

Anaïs wept as Raoul recalled Philippe's death. She had always favored Raoul, but Philippe was her child also. She was saddened by his death, but also ashamed of the circumstances in which he died.

"So, you went to _that_ place to collect your brother?" The Marquis asked then continued. "What have you done with his body?"

"It is in the carriage, wrapped in a white sheet. I have asked Hugues to send word to Father Mallery and I will leave immediately so that Philippe's body can be prepared for burial at the Cimetière du Père Lachaise, in the de Chagny family mausoleum. Due to the circumstances in which he died, I knew that you and mother would not want the details of his death to be public knowledge," Raoul detailed.

"Indeed," The Marquis frowned. "I will handle the details in this matter," he finalized.

"I shall wait for you and mother outside the gates of the cemetery," Raoul said as he turned on his heel and left his parents to their grieving.

Raoul wrote a quick note to Madame Giry, informing her of her daughter's well-being, before leaving his parent's estate. He handed the note to Hugues and told him to have a messenger deliver it right away.

As Raoul climbed into the driver's seat of the carriage, he couldn't help but think of his parents, most of all, his father. The Marquis de Chagny always handled things in a businesslike manner, especially family affairs. Raoul had always known his father's disposition to be austere. It was a wonder how someone as kind and caring as his mother was, ended up with a man like Jérôme de Chagny.

* * *

Father Mallery greeted Raoul as he ascended the steps of the church. As they went inside, Raoul asked the priest if he would hear his confession. Father Mallery nodded and led him to the confessional. 

Raoul told the priest everything that had happened, the truth. He did not wish to have this kind of burden weighing heavy on his conscience. He asked the priest for forgiveness of his sins and hoped that his confession would remain in the father's confidence.

"Of course, my son. What is said in the confessional is no one else's business but mine and the Almighty's. Whatever troubles you, my son, shall pass with time and prayer," Father Mallery said with compassion.

* * *

Raoul and Father Mallery met with his parents in front of the Cimetière du Père Lachaise and brought Philippe's casket to the de Chagny family mausoleum. As they gathered inside they said a few words in honor of Philippe and then Father Mallery read the final prayer. 

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."

Father Mallery concluded with the sign of the cross, as Anaïs wept openly. He then blessed the de Chagny family and offered his sympathy, leaving them to grieve.

The Marquis walked up to his son and addressed him. "Raoul, leave your mother. I would like to have a word with you."

Raoul followed his father to a stone bench that rested under the leafy branches of a large tree. The Marquis asked his son to take a seat with him.

"Raoul, with Philippe gone, you will have more responsibility in this family. You will need to oversee everything that was entrusted to him. Do you know what this means son?"

"Father?" Raoul questioned.

"You are now the Comte de Chagny. When you marry and your wife gives you an heir, he shall become Vicomte." The Marquis stated.

Raoul had not even thought about his succession upon Philippe's death, nor did he think about the new responsibilities he would be undertaking.

"I loved your brother dearly. I had hoped for better things, but his private affairs were less than desirable. You are all I have left, Raoul. When I am gone, the de Chagny legacy will be yours to oversee in its entirety. Do not disappoint me," The Marquis toned firmly. He got up to leave his only son to his thoughts, but not before adding, "Meet me at my estate one week from today. We shall go over what needs to be done."

* * *

Madame Giry received Raoul's message and was relieved beyond words. She made sure to send word to Nicolas and Victor to return to The House of Roses. She would wait for the two servants to return, and then she would make arrangements to journey to her daughter in La Rochelle. She also made sure to send word to her assistant, Manon. It would be a few more days until she could return to oversee the ballet lessons.

* * *

While Nadir was at the hospital, Meg took a moment to write her mother and let her know where she was staying. She knew her mother would be on her way as soon as Raoul told her she was out of danger. She went downstairs and left the note with the little old lady at the front desk. "Can you make sure this letter goes out today, Madame?" Meg asked sweetly. 

"Oui, Mademoiselle. My messenger has yet to stop by and collect the rest of these," the old woman said pointing at the bundle of letters on the counter.

Meg thanked her for her trouble and then exited the inn.

Browsing through various shop windows, Meg came across a bistro and decided to go inside to look at their menu. She was delighted to see what was being offered and she thought Nadir might find it appealing as well. She told the owner she would be back later for dinner, then she went across the street to purchase a few dresses for herself. _"I will have to burn this dreadful thing!"_ Meg thought looking down at her tattered dress in dismay.

On the way back to the inn she came across Nadir as he casually walked down the street, returning from the hospital.

"Allow me to help you with your parcels, Mademoiselle," Nadir said as he relieved her of her purchases.

"Merci," she smiled.

She asked how Erik and Christine were faring and told him about the little bistro she had inspected.

Nadir suggested they get dressed and head to the bistro for dinner, where he would tell her of Erik and Christine's status and the tale Raoul had masterfully woven on their behalf.

* * *

Madame Giry received her letter from Meg, detailing the inn she was currently at. She couldn't wait to be reunited with her daughter. 

Victor had escorted Madame Giry to the train station and made sure she was taken care of before he went back to the estate.

She seated herself and as the train began to move, she sighed, closing her eyes and thanking God that everyone was safe. She wondered what became of the Comte, but she knew she would be told everything once she arrived in La Rochelle.

* * *

Erik woke in the middle of the night to the sound of Christine mumbling in her sleep. He held her hand as she spoke of her father and the Angel of Music, but what interested him most of all was hearing her speak of Raoul. It didn't anger him, to his surprise. Christine seemed to be recalling a time they spent on the beach in their youth, building sand castles and sharing tales of a knight rescuing his damsel in distress. 

Erik closed his eyes and pictured the image of the chubby girl in the photo he came across in Raoul's study. Then he remembered Raoul's words he had read, as they came flooding back to him.

Raoul loved Christine as much as Erik did, he couldn't fault him for that. Christine was special. There was no one else in the world like her. Everything Raoul had done since the first day he'd come back into her life had been done out of love. Both men served the same purpose when it came to Christine's welfare.

Erik spent most of the night with his thoughts regarding Raoul and his wife. He concluded that Raoul was indeed every bit the honorable man Christine had known him to be and there was no denying that. He himself had seen these acts first hand.

Raoul washer knight in shining armor, but Erik was the man that she would spend her lifetime with, her love. Erik was her Angel of Music, the one she had held her love for since childhood.

"_Well, Vicomte, it seems that I have finally come to terms with how I feel about you and your relationship with Christine. I still do not like you, but I understand the reasons behind all that you've done for her. I respect the things you have done in order to keep her safe." _Erik closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, feeling at peace with himself and the world around him.

* * *

**Author's Note x2**  
I've adapted the succession of titles for this story, so again, I hope not to confuse anyone. In the movie, he was a Comte in the later years, so this made sense for my little fic. I hope nobody hates me for messing around with the nobility titles. 

Please continue to enjoy the story. -Phantom Hugs-

Thanks everyone for welcoming me back and welcome aboard INCOGNITOFAN!

**Disclaimer**  
I am not affiliated with the Père Lachaise Cemetery and Psalm 23 was taken from the King James version of the Bible. (I know, it's silly to add disclaimers for this, but I always credit all my sources.) -smiles-


	44. Chapter 44

**CHAPTER 44**

A week had gone by and there was still no improvement with Christine. Her fever was gone and her health was stable, but she still had not come out of her coma. She continued to speak at night, but other than that, there was no visible sign of her coming out of her current state. Erik would not give up on her though. Once he was able to get out of bed, he would make arrangements to move Christine back to The House of Roses.

* * *

Madame Giry stayed with Nadir and her daughter for several days before deciding to bring Meg back to Paris with her. 

The tale that Nadir had shared with her was incredible to believe, but thankfully everything had ended with her daughter safe and back at home where she belonged.

Before she had left La Rochelle, she visited with Erik and Christine to wish them a quick recovery. It was hard for her to see Christine in her current state.

She continued to pray for Christine's recovery and hoped that her they would be able to return to Melun soon.

* * *

As usual, Nadir was at the hospital bright and early to keep Erik company. They had not spent this much time together since their days in Persia. 

Erik had forgotten how much he enjoyed Nadir's company, though at times his cheery demeanor was a bit much when all Erik wanted to do was get some rest.

"So, how are you today, my boy?" Nadir said as he strolled into the room.

"I wish to be out of this bed already, so that I may attend to my wife's needs," Erik said in frustration.

"Well, it seems your strength has returned. At least you can sit up now. Perhaps what you need is something more to occupy your time other than my delightful companionship," Nadir finished with a grin.

Erik thought about what Nadir said and an idea came to him. "Is there a music shop nearby, Nadir?"

"I am unsure. I would have to see. What is it that you need?" Nadir asked.

"If you come across a music shop, please procure a violin for me. I would like to play for Christine. Perhaps it will help in her recovery. I don't know why I had not thought of this sooner," Erik said curiously.

"I shall do what I can, Erik," Nadir assured, then continued, "I almost forgot. I brought you a newspaper. I thought you might want to see it." Nadir handed the paper to Erik and then took his leave.

As Erik scanned the front page, he snorted. It was an article on the Comte's death, fabricated.

"_Comte Philippe de Chagny, mort après avoir chassé l'accident… … … le Comte was hunting in the Pyrenean Mountains… … … he fell victim to a wild boar attack… … … body was recovered by le Vicomte de Chagny… … … private service was held… … … Le Comte rests in the de Chagny family mausoleum at the Cimetière du Père Lachaise… … … Raoul de Chagny, only living son to Le Marquis de Chagny, will be titled as Comte."_

_

* * *

_  
Raoul had spent the week thinking about his new position. Even though it seemed too overwhelming, he was ready for the challenge. He wanted to prove to his father that he was worthy of carrying the de Chagny name and all the responsibilities that came with it. He stood before the door of his parent's estate and was prepared to take on his destiny.

Hugues greeted Raoul at the door and led him into the Marquis's study. He bowed to them both then left father and son to their business.

"Sit," the Marquis said upon his son's arrival.

"I have taken the week to go through all of Philippe's acquisitions, his holdings, shares, and funds. I've seen to it that they have been transferred in your name. I will not disillusion you boy. Your brother has left many business matters unattended. There is much to be done, but I have partners ready to attend to your needs. You have but to ask and they will be at your disposal," the Marquis detailed as he finished signing several documents upon his desk.

"Merci, Father. I am ready to take my place as Comte and I would like to handle the affairs Philippe has left me with, on my own. Should I find it necessary to require aid, then I will not hesitate to ask for help. I thank you for the offer nonetheless," Raoul said confidently.

"Good. I had expected you would take on these matters alone. There is hope for you yet, my boy. Do not let me down," the Marquis said evenly.

"Father, as my first matter of business, I wish to oversee the Opera Populaire's reopening. Our family has spent years supporting the Arts and I wish to continue doing so," Raoul stated with hope.

"This is your mother's influence. She has always been fond of those operas. Very well. It is only because I do not wish to argue with your mother, but I expect you to deal with matters of importance once the reconstruction has been completed," the Marquis toned firmly.

Standing up, Raoul bowed to his father. "It shall be done, Father. Merci."

"Go and visit your mother now. I will have all these documents sent to your estate," the Marquis said as he waved his son out of his study.

Raoul closed the door behind him and let out a long sigh of relief. _"That was a lot easier than expected. I'm fortunate the old man actually fears my mother," _Raoul thought with a smile.

Anaïs de Chagny was in the garden, crouched over her centaurium flowerbed, gathering a few into her hand as Raoul came upon her.

"Mother? Why not call the gardeners to attend to that?" Raoul asked simply.

"Raoul, you know how much I adore these little beauties in bloom. I cannot help myself," Anaïs said with a smile, as she got up to kiss her son.

"Have you been well, Mother?" Raoul asked as he hugged her.

"Come. Walk with me," Anaïs said, entwining her arm with his.

They walked awhile in silence, until his mother spoke.

"I'm faring as well as can be expected. I keep Philippe close to my heart. That will be enough to get me through this."

Raoul nodded and patted his mother's hand. "I spoke with Father, about the opera house."

"He didn't give you any trouble, did he?" Anaïs said with concern.

"Not at all, mother, but it's only because he fears you. He knows how much you take pleasure in the Arts," Raoul said with a laugh.

"Oh, my dear, how you enjoy spiting your father so," she giggled then continued, "It's true what you say though. I would have your father's ear if he didn't allow you to assist in the reconstruction of Paris's magnificent Opera Populaire," Anaïs said dramatically.

"You will love the production that will celebrate the reopening, Mother. I have suggested Marivaux's 'The Game of Love and Chance' and the managers were thrilled," Raoul said happily.

"A romantic comedy! One I have been anxious to see for some time now," Anaïs said with excitement.

"I knew it would please you," Raoul said proudly as they made their way toward the estate.

"Take these with you son," Anaïs said as she handed the array of centauriums to Raoul.

"Mother? I do not…" Raoul was silenced as his mother shushed him and winked.

"Give them to her," Anaïs said simply and then continued, "Do not think your mother a fool. I know perfectly well when my son is in love."

Raoul was taken aback by his mother's words. _"Am I in love?"_ His mother obviously had thought so. _"I care for Meg dearly, but love?"_ With everything that had happened, he hadn't thought much about it and now it was at the forefront of his mind. It was something he would have to face, eventually, but for now, he had an opera to rebuild.

Raoul had the flowers wrapped and sent by messenger to Meg, along with a note to meet him outside of the Opera Populaire. He hadn't seen her since that night he left her in the hospital in La Rochelle and he wanted to make sure she was doing better. He also wanted to ask her a question regarding the production for the grand reopening.

* * *

Meg met Raoul as requested. Cane in hand, she had a slight limp as she came toward him. 

"My apologies, little Meg. I should've known better than to ask you to come out in your condition," Raoul said as he kissed her hand.

"It's alright, mon ami. The doctor said I should try and get used to walking, to strengthen it," Meg said simply, and then continued, "Anyway, it's good to see you. I have been worried about you. How have you been?"

"I'm well. I have a lot to attend to since Philippe's death, so I've been busy. I am glad you were able to meet with me though. Shall we go inside? I would like to discuss something with you." Raoul offered his arm to Meg and she took to it with a smile.

As they entered the foyer of the opera house, Meg noticed the crew had restored most of it during their time away. "It looks just as grand as it was before," Meg said in awe.

"Oui, but there is still much to be done. I'm pleased with the progress so far. The crew has been working hard to meet the summer deadline," Raoul said as they made their way to the manager's office.

"Where are Messieurs Andre and Firmin?" Meg questioned before Raoul opened the door.

"They are on the Rue Scribe side, making sure the crewmen are doing as specified. The blueprints Erik provided are extraordinary and the managers wish for every detail to be followed," Raoul said, offering a seat to Meg.

He took a seat next to her then held her hands within his. "There is something I want to tell you," Raoul said seriously.

Meg suddenly became nervous. She wondered what he had been eager to tell her and now that she was about to find out, she was feeling faint.

Raoul noticed her complexion change as her eyes darted around the room.

"Meg? Are you alright? Would you like some water?" Raoul asked with concern.

Meg took a deep breath to calm herself. "Non, mon ami. I'm fine. What is it that you wish to tell me?

"It's about…" Raoul was interrupted by Meg's sudden outburst.

"Raoul, really, I understand. That kiss we shared at the chateau, I know it was just a friendly kiss given in haste because of the danger we faced and you wanted to reassure me we would be safe," Meg blurted.

Raoul smiled at her assumption. It was moments like this that made him adore her innocence.

"Meg. I was merely going to ask if you would be interested in trying out for the production of Marivaux's 'The Game of Love and Chance,'" Raoul grinned.

Her cheeks flushed and she cursed herself silently for her naivety. "Raoul, I…" she paused and let out a nervous giggle.

"Does this mean you are interested?" Raoul asked, knowing what she would say.

"Oui, I would love to! I only hope Maman will understand," Meg frowned as she thought about her mother's reaction.

"You will be wonderful, Meg, and she will see that for herself on opening night!" Raoul assured.

Raoul spent the rest of the afternoon giving Meg a tour of the sections of the opera house that had been completed.

As they made their way outside, they stopped to say hello to the managers. He told them to expect Meg to try out for an acting part of the production. They were pleased to hear she was taking a chance to further her career. They all agreed she would make an excellent addition to the cast.

Meg was prepared to take her leave when Raoul insisted on taking her home. She did not refuse his request.

* * *

Arriving at her flat, Raoul walked her to the door. "I hope to see you again soon, little Meg," he said as he looked into her eyes. 

"I meant to thank you for the flowers you sent me. Maman placed them in a vase for me. They're beautiful," Meg blushed.

"They're from my mother's garden. She gave them to me and told me to give them to you," Raoul said as he slowly leaned closer to her.

"I don't understand. I didn't know your mother…" Meg was silenced as Raoul's lips met hers.

Meg was startled at first, but then slowly closed her eyes and gave into his affection. She wrapped her arms around him, as he brought his left arm around her waist. She lost herself in him, but as he attempted to deepen the kiss, she pulled back and took a breath.

"Raoul, I…" She tried to finish, but was at a loss for words.

"Don't say another word. I shall see you again soon, little Meg," Raoul kissed her hand and bowed.

Meg watched as he disappeared into his carriage and Francois tipped his hat in her direction. She waved as they drove off down the road and then placed her hand to her lips, blushing.

* * *

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights nor am I affiliated to Marivaux's "The Game of Love and Chance." But, you all already knew that, right? -grins- 


	45. Chapter 45

**CHAPTER 45**

Erik spent much of his time playing the violin Nadir had gotten for him. He composed a few new tunes, which he kept securely within his mind. He would make sure to write them down once he returned home.

He had watched Christine react every time he played. Her eyelids would flutter, but she still was not able to wake from her coma. There were several nights that Erik wanted to throw the violin across the room in frustration. He had hoped she would have woken up by now and all the waiting was becoming unbearable. He didn't know what he would do if she remained in this state forever.

He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. "Come back to me, mon ange," he whispered, words he always told her since she was moved into his room.

"I see you chose to disregard the doctor's advice," Nadir said as he spotted Erik standing by Christine's bed.

"I know my own health better than those fools!" Erik growled.

Nadir frowned. He knew the anxiety his friend had in regards to Christine's condition, but he hoped the news he bared would lighten his spirits. "I have made arrangements for us to leave this place and return home."

Erik made his way around the bed, holding his arm across his bandages. "When do we leave? This place is doing nothing for my sanity or my wife's health."

Nadir watched as Erik settled back into bed.

"We leave by train at the end of the week. The doctor assured me Christine would be able to be transported without risk to her health, but had advised that we provide her with a nurse once she was at home."

"I shall care for Christine once we are back at La Maison de Roses," Erik decided.

Nadir seated himself in the chair beside Erik's bed and said, "Are you sure that is wise, Erik?"

Erik looked at Nadir and said seriously, "I am her husband. I have sworn to God that I would not fail her. I will watch over her no matter how long it takes. Until my last dying breath, if she is never to wake, I will be by her side."

"I understand. Just know you will not be alone in doing so, my old friend," Nadir assured.

* * *

Raoul sat by the fountain in the garden and thought back on Meg. He swirled his hand into the water and smiled. 

"Raoul? Would you mind?" The Marquise de Chagny held a parcel in her arms as she made her way towards her son.

"Mother? What on earth…" Raoul paused as he took the parcel from his mother's arms.

"It's a new suit. The fabrics just came in from Italy, and I thought you might have use for it," Anaïs said simply.

"I am capable of getting my own suits. You didn't have to go out of your way," Raoul said as he placed the parcel by the fountain. He sat back down and his mother joined him.

"I see you still hold your love for this fountain," Anaïs smiled looking up at the stone mermaid.

"It soothes me and it also reminds me of you. I will always cherish those stories you told me as a child," Raoul said, dipping his hand back into the water.

Anaïs tucked her son's hair behind his ear and then placed her palm against his cheek lovingly. "There is something else it reminds you of, does it not?"

Raoul looked up at the mermaid and sighed. "Mother, there is something I must ask you. Philippe had mentioned something to me and it has been on my mind for some time now."

He turned to his mother and looked into her eyes. "Philippe made it clear to me that father was displeased with the company I have been keeping and he mentioned you also shared in his sentiment. I am never surprised by his reaction in the way I choose to run my life, but I found it hard to believe that you would be disappointed with me, especially regarding matters of the heart," Raoul said confused. He took in a breath and continued.

"I've been spending time with a dear friend, a ballerina from the opera, and I find that the more she comforts me the more I want to be with her. I know it has not been long since my engagement to Christine ended and this girl I have been seeing is her closest friend, but…" Raoul paused in frustration, close to tears.

Anaïs looked at her son sympathetically. "My dear sweet boy, did I not raise you to make your own decisions. Do not let the negativities of others sway you. You could never disappoint me, Raoul. You are a good and honorable young man and as long as you stay true to your heart, I know you will always make the right choices." She leaned toward her son and kissed him on the forehead.

"But father… he wishes…" Raoul was silenced as his mother interrupted.

"Never _mind_ what your father wishes. You are a de Chagny and always will be. I will handle your father," Anaïs assured.

A tear escaped Raoul's eye and his mother brushed it away.

"You will still love me, Mother, if I choose not to marry someone who is socially elite?"

"I'll have you know that I was _never _a part of high society, _nor _was I titled. Your father married me because he loved me," Anaïs confirmed.

Raoul looked at his mother with disbelief. "Father did not have a problem with _his_ parents?"

"They were _very_ upset, but that did not change the fact that he was a de Chagny and so shall it be for you," Anaïs said simply.

"Then _why_ does father treat me the way he does? He _always_ favored Philippe. It seems at times he wishes I were never born!" Raoul looked away toward the stone mermaid again, trying to ease his aggravation.

Anaïs looked to her son and placed her hand on his shoulder. "He may have favored Philippe, but he always saw himself in you. You share more in common with your father than you know. He focused his attention on Philippe because he saw that your brother had inherited all of his weaknesses, but you my son, inherited all of his greatness. He treats you the way he does only to make you stronger. That is your father's way. You cannot blame him for his faults. He is not a perfect man, but he never stopped believing in your strengths, the very strengths he possesses. I know his actions toward you seem strange and may not make any sense, but he does care for you."

Raoul looked at his mother with tears in his eyes and hugged her as best he could with one arm.

Anaïs rubbed his back as he cried.

"Oh, mother, it's just been so hard for me. I will never understand him!" Raoul sobbed.

"You do not need to understand him, Raoul. You simply need to know that your father loves you and always will," Anaïs said as she continued to comfort him.

* * *

Meg sat in the sitting room as her mother stitched. Every few minutes Meg would sigh. Madame Giry looked over at her daughter and raised an eyebrow. She knew Meg had something on her mind. She always acted this way, even as a child. 

"What is it, Meg? I know you want to talk," Madame Giry said as she stood up.

"Maman, it's Raoul. Something happened between us," Meg said immediately.

Madame Giry pulled a chair next to her daughter and seated herself before her. "What do you mean 'something happened?'" She questioned.

"Well… he… he… kissed me," Meg said hesitantly.

Madame Giry let out a sigh. She knew it would come to this. "Chéri, you know you should not carry on this way. I do not disapprove of Raoul, but it simply is _impossible_ for the two of you to…" Madame Giry paused as Meg cut in.

"Why, Maman? He loved Christine and she is like me, common." Meg let out another sigh.

"They knew each other from long ago and his parents knew her father, the great Gustave Daae, renowned violinist. To them he was as good as royalty," Madame Giry said honestly.

Meg pouted and knelt before her mother, resting her head on her lap. "But I think I'm falling in love with him. What do I do, Maman?"

Madame Giry stroked her daughter's hair and sighed. "I cannot tell you what to do, Meg. You are a grown woman and should make your own decisions. I just don't want to see you hurt. Promise me that you will be cautious when it comes to le Comte."

A single tear escaped Meg's eye as she answered her mother. "Oui, Maman. I promise."

* * *

Raoul spent the rest of the day with his mother. He told her more about Meg and she was genuinely interested. She noticed how he spoke of her. She smiled at her little boy that was now very much a man. 

He was in love, even if he didn't realize it yet.

Anaïs took Raoul's hand into hers as they sat watching the sunset fall beyond the fountain. "I would like to meet Meg. What do you think?"

"Are you positive, mother? I can have cook prepare us something, if you wish," Raoul said eagerly.

"That should be fine, dearest," Anaïs answered.

"What excuse will you give father?" Raoul asked curiously.

"I will not need to give him an excuse. He shall be here to dine with us," Anaïs confirmed.

"But, mother, he surely will not come. Not after knowing the company he will be keeping," Raoul spoke honestly.

"He will come, Raoul. You shall see," Anaïs said as she rubbed her son's back.

* * *

Later that day, Raoul sat in his study and looked over the letter he would be sending off to Meg in the morning. 

_**Dearest Meg,**_

**_I spent the day with my mother, mostly talking about you, and she informed me that she was interested in meeting you. I know it seems rather sudden and I will understand if you choose not to come at this time, but if you would like to, please_ _send word to me and I will make the proper arrangements. I believe my father may be in attendance as well. My mother is hopes so, in any case. _**

_**As always, your presence would be an honor and I look forward to seeing you.**_

_**Warm Regards,  
Raoul**_

_**P.S.  
Before you get ahead of yourself, little Meg, the kiss we shared before your doorstep was not out of haste or fear of danger. It was genuine and I thank you for allowing me that brief encounter.**_

Raoul smiled as he sealed the note and stretched out into a yawn. He turned off his gas lamp and made his way out of his study. He came upon Jacques, as he was about to ascend the stairs.

"Monsieur, will you be in need of your Laudanum tonight?" Jacques asked.

Raoul had not even thought about his medicine. He was surprised he hadn't been in need of it even after acquiring his second injury. "I shall be fine, Jacques, but can you make sure to send for the doctor tomorrow? I wish to see how my hand is progressing. Also, there is a letter on my desk in the study. Be sure it gets delivered in the morning."

"Oui, Comte," Jacques said as he left his master.

Raoul ascended the stairs and thought about what Jacques said. _"Comte… that will take some getting used to," _he shook his head as he opened the door to his room. He stepped in and closed it behind him.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
I am happy to hear everyone enjoyed the last Chapter. This Chapter was to progress the storyline between Raoul and Meg while our dear Christine is still in her coma. -sighs- Thanks to everyone for standing by the R/M Chapters. -smiles- 


	46. Chapter 46

**CHAPTER 46**

Meg had accepted Raoul's invitation and as the hour drew near she became a nervous wreck. She continually checked her yellow chiffon gown and fidgeted with the pearls about her neck. _"Perhaps this was not a good idea after all,"_ she thought with anxiety. She entertained the idea of making up and excuse or having her mother make an excuse for her. _"Meg, you're a grown woman! Now gather your nerves and stop these childish thoughts!"_ she told herself. A knock at her bedroom door startled her, as she checked herself one last time before the mirror.

"Meg, Francois is here to bring you to le Comte," Madame Giry said beyond the door.

Meg opened the door and her mother viewed her flushed cheeks. She brushed her daughter's hair from her shoulders and said, "You look lovely. Have fun tonight, chéri." She placed a kiss upon her daughter's forehead and walked her to the door.

"Maman, I'm nervous!" Meg said as she held the doorknob tightly.

"Be nothing more than you are and everything should be fine," Madame Giry said positively.

Meg nodded and took a deep breath as she opened the door. She was greeted by Francois, who assisted her into the carriage.

Meg waved to her mother from the window as Madame Giry blew a kiss to her. _"I shall pray for you, mon chéri."_

_

* * *

_  
Jacques led Meg before the double-doors of the grand dining hall. Meg stood tall and straightened out the front of her dress.

"Are you ready, Mademoiselle?" Jacques asked as he viewed her uneasiness.

Meg simply nodded as she gripped her cane tightly.

Jacques opened the doors and announced her. "Mademoiselle Megan Giry," Jacques said proudly. He admired this young girl's bravery in the company she was about to keep, referring to the powerful presence of the Marquis.

Raoul and his father stood as Meg made her way toward them.

She focused on Raoul, never losing contact with his eyes. She drew strength from his calming blue gaze.

The Marquis eyed her carefully and then took her hand. "Mademoiselle," he voiced firmly.

Meg curtsied slightly, trying not to lose her balance.

Raoul took her hand and kissed it, then seated her beside his mother.

"It's lovely to meet you, my dear," Anaïs smiled.

"It's an honor to meet you both," Meg said confidently.

"Let us dine and we shall adjourn to the sitting room for pleasantries," the Marquis said.

They were presented with a full seven-course meal. All the foods that had been prepared looked delectable.

Meg was glad she had remembered the proper utensil etiquette her mother had showed her many years ago. She never thought she would actually need to put it to use.

Raoul had watched her carefully and was impressed. He would occasionally glance at his father and he noticed he was watching her eat as well, nodding his head in approval.

As their meal came to a close, the Marquis asked Therese to serve tea in the sitting room.

Raoul helped Meg from her seat and offered his arm to her as the Marquis did the same for his wife.

Entering the sitting room, they gathered by the warmth of the fire. Anaïs started the conversation, asking Meg about her upbringing and how life had been for her since dancing for the opera house.

The Marquis leaned against the high back chair and listened as the women chattered.

Meg spoke of the various operas she had performed in and the hours of rehearsals that were required per production.

"Mother, Meg has agreed to try out for an acting part in The Game of Love and Chance," Raoul added as Meg spoke of the opera house.

"So you plan on a transition from ballet to acting?" The Marquis questioned.

"Oui, Marquis. I wish to pursue my dreams of acting on the stage. Maman would like to see me continue with ballet, since she always hoped for me to become a prima ballerina. I do love ballet, but my passion is to become an actress," Meg said dreamily.

"So you go against your mother's wishes?" The Marquis said furrowing his brow.

"Jérôme!" Anaïs warned.

"It's a simple question, Anaïs, and I wish to hear Mademoiselle Giry's answer," the Marquis stated.

"I may disappointment my Maman at times, but she always supports me. She worries about me, rightly so, but she also knows I am old enough to make my own decisions, right or wrong. She loves me very much and only wishes my happiness," Meg said honestly.

The Marquis was amused with Meg's answer. She was strong willed like Raoul, though naïve, but pleasantly so, not dumb-witted, he noted. _"Just as I remembered Anaïs in her youth,"_ he thought ironically. _"The boy really does take after me."_ All eyes were on him as he rubbed his chin in thought.

"I wish you the best when you try out for this play. You seem to be a very determined young lady. I'm sure you will be able to secure a part," the Marquis said to everyone's astonishment. He then looked to his wife and continued, " Come, Anaïs. The hour grows late," the Marquis said as he held his hand out to his wife.

Raoul and Meg walked his parents to the door. Before they exited, the Marquis turned to his son and said, "Raoul, I expect you to accompany Mademoiselle Giry home."

"Oui, father," Raoul answered as his father patted his back. He turned to Meg and kissed her hand, wishing her a good night as she curtsied and offered the same.

Anaïs kissed Raoul on both cheeks then whispered in his ear. "Your father likes her and so do I," she smiled at her son. Looking to Meg fondly, Anaïs kissed her on both cheeks as well and said, "You are a beautiful child. It has been a pleasure meeting you tonight."

Meg blushed as she curtsied for the Marquise. "The pleasure was mine. Thank you for having me," Meg said with a smile.

As they watched the carriage leave, Raoul turned to Meg and smiled, then lifted her up off her feet with one arm, spinning her.

"Raoul, what are you doing?" Meg giggled as he spun her.

"My parents, they like you, Meg! My mother I expected, but my father? It's not in his nature to take to others easily," Raoul explained.

He placed her back on her feet as Meg asked, "Your father likes me? Is that how he displays his affection?"

Raoul laughed and he traced the right side of her face with his left hand. "Dear little Meg, if _only_ you knew…" he paused, losing himself in the sparkle of her eyes against the moonlit sky. His smile faded as he leaned closer to her with seriousness.

Meg's heart began to race as she felt his breath upon her skin. She closed her eyes as his lips met hers. Once again, she was captivated him. He placed his left hand against the back of her neck and parted his lips slightly. Meg did the same and as she felt him breathe slightly into her mouth, she began to feel dizzy. The feeling intensified as she felt his tongue enter her mouth. She met his tongue with hers nervously and as it made contact, he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Meg could hardly breathe at this new sensation. She had never kissed in this fashion and it made her stomach flutter. She turned, breaking their kiss, and took a few deep breaths.

Raoul searched her face with concern. "Are you alright, little Meg? Forgive me if I…"

He was silenced as Meg kissed him.

They stood under the night sky, giving into their feelings. This was more than just friendship. Tonight they had found love.

* * *

The transport to the train station and the ride home to Melun had gone smoothly. The private car Nadir had reserved had a bed for Christine to keep her comfortable and secure during their journey. The Persian made sure Erik and Christine were settled back within The House of Roses before sending word of their return to Madame Giry and Meg. 

"I appreciate everything you've done for us, Daroga. You are more than welcome to stay with us, should you choose. That place of yours in the Rue de Rivoli is hardly a place to call home," Erik said with an unappealing look.

"I do believe I have grown on you, old boy. Perhaps you would even _miss_ me should I refuse your offer," Nadir grinned.

"Don't push your luck, Daroga," Erik said cautiously.

Nadir accepted his friend's offer without any further bantering. He decided to keep his teasing to a minimum since Erik was not fully recovered from his injury.

After Nadir left to grab some of his belongings back at his flat, Erik made his way upstairs to be with Christine. He wasn't able to get as close as he would have liked back at the hospital, but now he could take comfort in the warmth of her body and run his fingers through her long brown curls.

He decided to read her the story of "Beauty and the Beast" by Madame Le Prince de Beaumont. It was a better version to Madame Gabrielle de Villeneuve's original. It was much more streamlined yet still kept its magical essence within the text.

Christine would react by squeezing Erik's hand during certain parts of the book. He found she was most receptive to the story of the Beast and his curse.

He paused to search her face and told her how much he loved her. He kissed her and always begged her to return to him. All he could do was watch his beautiful Christine in her state of endless slumber.

* * *

Madame Giry received Nadir's letter and was glad to hear they were finally back home. She had hoped to hear Christine had woken up, but her condition remained the same, which worried her. She also knew Erik would be having a difficult time over his wife's prolonged state. 

She wrote back to Nadir telling him she would visit soon to help in whatever way that she could.

Meg had returned home late last night and to her surprise, her mother was not waiting up for her this time. She slept the morning away and it was just about noon and she glanced over to the clock sitting on top of the vanity. _"Maman did not wake me?"_ She thought with amazement.

Meg got out of bed and put on her robe. Grabbing her cane she made her way over to the kitchen. As she passed the sitting room, her mother called to her, "How was your dinner with Raoul and his parents?"

Meg was startled and banged her cane to the floor trying to catch her balance.

Madame Giry flinched unexpectedly.

"Maman, I thought you were not home," Meg answered.

"Manon is with the girls today. I told her I would take the day off," Madame Giry said casually.

Meg made her way to the settee and seated herself. "Why did you not wake me earlier?"

"Did you not enjoy your rest, chéri? After all, you didn't come home until three o' clock this morning," Madame Giry said suspiciously.

"We didn't do anything!" Meg blushed at what she had just said.

Madame Giry laughed at her daughter's inability to keep her mouth shut. "Meg, I am your mother and should anything happen, I would know, regardless of whether you blurted it out or not."

She walked over to Meg and sat next to her. "So tell me, how was your evening?"

"Dinner was amazing! There was so much food! I don't know how they can stand to eat like that everyday, Maman!" Meg emphasized, and then continued more casually, "Le Marquise de Chagny is beautiful and she seemed to like me very much. I'm not sure how Raoul's father felt about me. He seemed like a stuffy old goat, but Raoul says he is that way. He seemed certain his father liked me. I didn't think I would survive the evening, but I remembered what you said about being myself, which I was. His Maman even asked me to see her again soon," Meg smiled.

"Perhaps when you get a bit better, chéri," Madame Giry suggested.

She was relieved to hear Raoul's parents did not treat her daughter as a mere commoner. She was still uneasy about her relationship with the new Comte, but now that she knew her daughter was no longer a secret to Raoul's parents, the uncertainty seemed to lessen. They seemed to accept the fact Meg was a part of their son's life. _"Only time will determine what will become of this,"_ Madame Giry thought.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
"You like me! You really like me!" -giggles- Sorry, I had a Sally Field flashback. I'm good now. -grins- Anyways, I'm glad everyone is still enjoying the updates and because you have all been extremely patient and loyal, I have updated two Chapters today for your enjoyment. Happy reading, my faithful supporters! -Erik squishy hugs- 

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights nor am I affiliated with Marivaux's "The Game of Love and Chance" or Madame Le Prince de Beaumont and Madame Gabrielle de Villeneuve versions of "Beauty and the Beast."


	47. Chapter 47

**Author's Note**  
I'd like to take this moment to praise Gerard Butler's performance in "The Phantom of the Opera." It's a shame "No One Would Listen" was cut from the movie. This Chapter I dedicate in his honor. Thank you for your beautiful voice, Gerry, and for bringing The Phantom to life for all of us! You are my living Erik. -hugs-

**CHAPTER 47**

Several weeks came and went. The Opera Populaire had completely been repaired on the outside. All that remained was remodeling the theatre and stage. The last piece to go up would be the new illustrious chandelier made up of exquisite Swarovski crystals, a gift from Erik to make up for his destruction of the opera house.

* * *

Meg had tried out for the production of "The Game of Love and Chance" after she had recovered from her injury and won the role of Lisette, Silvia's servant. 

As expected, Madame Giry was not thrilled, but after sitting in on several rehearsals, she found her daughter to be quite amazing.

Almost all the roles were filled but they had yet to find the productions two main stars, Silvia and Durante. They were still months away from the grand opening, but the managers had hoped to fill the last two spots sooner. Casting calls were done daily, each ending in disappointment. For now, rehearsals were done using stand-ins.

* * *

Raoul's injuries had healed completely and due to his new title, the overwhelming workload kept him from making his journey to Montpellier as he had planned. It didn't bother him much, since he was able to spend a lot more time with Meg. 

They both agreed to keep their relationship at a slow pace out of respect for their parents. A long courtship seemed to ease all of their minds and they had spent several evenings dining between both estates.

Madame Giry was well received by the Marquis and Marquise de Chagny. They had admired her during her earlier years, when she would grace the stage with her ballet. They were saddened when she announced she would no longer be able to perform.

* * *

Nadir had been called away by his servant, Darius, after a month of being in Erik's estate. There was an urgent matter that needed his immediate attention. He hated to leave Erik since Christine had not come out of her coma yet, but there was nothing he could do. 

He assured Erik he would return from Morocco as soon as he could.

Erik wanted to know what held such great importance in Morocco, but Nadir insisted that it would be impossible to say for certain until he got there. He found it strange that Nadir was being so secretive, but he decided to let him be.

Nadir had spent enough time tending to Erik's needs and now that he was fully healed, there was no real need to keep him bound to his service. He wished his Persian brother well and Nadir gave him his blessings in hopes that someday soon his Christine would return to him.

* * *

Erik found himself completely alone once Nadir had left him. It had been two weeks since he had left for Morocco, and sitting with Christine without interruption made Erik become more and more disheartened. It was hard for him to go day to day without any sign. She had stopped talking in her sleep altogether and she was non responsive to the violin. 

Erik opened the windows to let the cool evening breeze in; the scent of the roses outside filled the room immediately. Walking back to the bed, he cuddled beside her and traced her face tenderly.

"Christine…" he whispered. He placed a kiss to her lips and began to cry, his tears falling upon her face. "Come back to me, mon ange, I beg of you," he uttered as his voice trembled.

Feeling hopeless, he got up from the bed and walked out onto the balcony. His sorrow slowly turned to anger as he looked to the night sky.

"What _compels_ you to curse me, God? Have I not _suffered _enough in your eyes? You give me hope and then you take it away from me like I am a pawn in some _twisted _game. You _continue _to test my will to live, and this latest act of yours could not be any more _sadistic_. What _more_ do you want from me? You are supposed to be a loving God, a merciful God, but I have found _neither _to be true. Your wrath upon me I can accept, but that beautiful angel that sleeps beyond me does not deserve _this _from you. She does not deserve this at all!" He broke down in anguished tears as he fought against himself to end it all by throwing himself off the balcony.

A single star shot across the sky, catching his attention, as he watched it trail off and disappear. He closed his eyes and thought of the night he and Christine had bound themselves to one another under this same sky. He cursed himself for his suicidal thoughts as he thought about his wife again.

Erik took in a shuddered breath and began to sing to try an ease his pain.

_Christine, please hear me  
Wake to my song  
Come to where you belong_

He walked back into the room and viewed Christine lying peacefully in the bed.

_Each day I wake to you  
I long to be with you  
I have been lonely  
My heart dies each day without you _

He made his way over to the bed and crawled in beside her.

_Each night I hold you near  
To keep me from my fears  
Darkness surrounds me  
Save me from this waking nightmare _

Erik ran his fingers through her silky curls, and kissed her cheek tenderly.

_Do not leave me here all alone  
Angel wake--I need you  
I can't go on  
Without my light, my dawn_

Tears began to escape him again, falling upon her face as he held her close to him.

_You gave me life anew  
Love like I never knew  
Christine, please hear me  
Wake to my song  
Come to where you belong_

Erik could barely sing his last few notes as the tears overwhelmed him.

_Christine, please hear me  
Wake to my song  
Come to where you belong_

As he whispered his song to a close, feeling completely defeated.

He cried for her as he held her face close to his. "Mon ange, return to me! Please!" He pleaded desperately. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each finger lovingly, and then placed it against the marred side of his face, closing his eyes tightly.

Christine began to move her fingers slightly across the uneven skin.

The tension in Erik's face began to ease as he felt her delicate fingers tracing him. "If this is a dream, let me never wake," he whispered as he concentrated on every movement her fingers made.

"I l-lo-love you, Erik…" Christine breathed.

Tears slipped from Erik's closed eyes as he heard the voice of his beautiful angel in the dark recesses of his mind. He placed his hand over hers as she continued to feel every inch of his deformity.

He turned his head to kiss the inside of her palm adoringly. "Let me die now in this moment. I wish this to never end."

Christine spoke again as Erik slowly opened his eyes. "Don't leave m-me, Angel. Not after I have r-re-returned to you…" Christine stuttered in a sigh.

Erik turned to her and searched her face wildly.

Christine fluttered her eyelids open and looked into his red swollen eyes. She smiled tenderly as she took in the sight of his face.

Erik could not believe she was awake. He prayed his eyes were not playing tricks on him.

"I knew you would c-come for me," Christine said as she watched Erik's tears cover his face.

"Hold m-me, Erik," Christine whispered.

Erik brought her up carefully, wrapped his arms around her delicate frame. "Oh, Christine… don't ever… leave me again! I thought… you would never… return to me. I could not bear… to be without you, mon ange…" Erik stuttered between breaths as he cried. _"Thank you, God! Thank you!"_ Erik thought as he held Christine preciously.

The two lovers held each other throughout the night as Erik told Christine everything that had come to pass. Christine did not believe how long she had been in her coma. It seemed like only yesterday when she was taken away by Philippe. She was surprised to hear about his death and everything that Raoul had done for them. Most of all she was thankful that Erik was able to put aside his differences with Raoul. She hoped perhaps one day they would at least be able to tolerate each other.

* * *

Erik woke before Christine and prepared himself for an eventful morning. He went to his study to write a few notes…one to Madame Giry to inform her that Christine was now awake and the other to be sent to the doctor in town so he could do a full diagnosis on his wife. He gave the notes to Nicolas then went to the kitchen to have the cook prepare a light breakfast. 

From the kitchen, he ventured toward the garden and picked several white roses and a single red rose. He entered the tower, making his way up to the master suite and placed the red rose beside Christine. He then proceeded to scatter the white roses all about the bed.

Christine was a vision of loveliness in a sea of roses. He smiled at his handiwork and then retreated downstairs, back to the kitchen.

Picking up the tray of fresh fruits, tea, and sweet rolls, he made his way back up to the master suite and carefully placed it on the table beside the bed. He took his violin from its case and stood before her. He played "Caprice No. 20" by the great Italian violinist Niccolo Paganini.

As Erik lost himself within the music, Christine woke and took in the sight before her. She took the single red rose to her breast and smiled. The smell of the warm sweet rolls filled her senses as the music Erik played soothed her soul. She turned to her side and watched as Erik became one with his violin. She could spend the rest of her life watching him bring music to life.

As the song came to an end he slowly opened his eyes and saw her looking back at him with a smile.

"My beautiful morning rose," Erik said as he watched the roses kissing Christine's form upon the bed. "I'm sure you are famished. I have brought you a light breakfast from the kitchen, compliments of the chef."

He placed his violin on the chair next to him and took the tray off of the table. Sitting beside her, he carefully set the tray in front of her.

Christine's eyes lit up at the sight of the fresh strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries. She took a fork and placed a strawberry in her mouth as Erik poured her some tea.

"Be sure to pace yourself, mon ange. I want you to be able to keep your food down. You will need a few weeks to regain your strength," Erik advised.

Christine nodded her head and smiled at him.

He picked up a blueberry and brought it to her mouth as she slowly opened it. He smiled back at her as she took it in her mouth and chewed happily.

"I've missed that look, my hungry little kitten," Erik sighed contently.

When Christine had finished her breakfast, Erik drew a warm bath for her. Taking off her nightgown, he picked her up off the bed, and walked toward the bathroom. Stepping inside, he stopped before the tub, slipping her slowly into the water. He lathered her hair with the rose scented soap, and then rinsed it. Taking a small cloth into his hand, he rubbed the lavender scented oils into her skin, covering her entire body.

"Will you treat me this way even when I am fully recovered?" Christine asked, enjoying his touch against her skin.

"I shall never grow tired of taking care of you, my wife. I will treat you in this fashion for all the days of my life. I love you, Christine," Erik said devotedly.

Christine gazed into his eyes and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you too, Erik," she whispered in his ear then kissed his cheek.

He moved his head and met her lips with his. He ran his fingers across her naked back and slid them slowly along her side, then down into the water, grabbing hold of her thigh.

Christine grasped the back of his shirt within her hands as their kiss became more passionate.

"I have gone too long without your touch, mon ange, but we cannot continue like this," Erik breathed heavily, breaking their kiss. "You must fully recover and then I promise you may love me as much as you desire," he said as he stood up to grab a towel from the rack.

Christine pouted as he wrapped her within the warmth of the towel.

He picked her up and brought her back to the bed, then disappeared into the changing room to gather her clothes.

"I thought you might like to go out today. Nicolas has set up the gazebo by the Seine so that we may spend the day there comfortably," Erik detailed as he dressed her.

"I would like that. Thank you, mon amour," Christine said appreciatively.

As Erik placed her dress over her she looked at him inquisitively. "Erik, you forgot my corset."

"Mon ange, you will not wear that contraption in your condition. I don't know how you can stand to wear that silly thing at all. How is one to breathe in such a constricting device?" Erik said bemusedly.

"Every woman wears them, Erik. It's proper attire for a woman such as myself," Christine noted.

"You are not wearing one today and most certainly not going to wear one until you are better," Erik confirmed as he buttoned the back of her dress.

She sighed, not wanting to argue with him, as he reached for the hairbrush on the vanity. He brushed her hair and once she was ready, he excused himself to change.

After dressing, he carried her down into the sitting room.

Nicolas brought in a wheelchair and helped his mistress into it.

Erik turned to Nicolas and informed him to send the doctor down by the lake upon his arrival and to serve lunch at the specified hour, and then he looked to Christine in the chair and mentioned to her, "Do not grow accustomed to the chair, mon ange. It is only because the path to the lake is unsuitable for you to travel on so early into your recovery."

"I understand, Erik. I would like to be able to try walking soon," Christine said with determination.

Erik pushed Christine down to the gazebo and carried her up into it. There was a long bench with cushions, a small table and a rocking chair set up inside. He placed her onto the bench and seated himself beside her.

Christine watched as a family of swan made their way down the Seine. She was happy to be outdoors as the cool breeze blew against her skin.

* * *

Nicolas accompanied the doctor down by the Seine and spoke with Erik while he examined Christine. 

As the examination came to an end, Erik turned to address the doctor. "How does my wife fare, Dr. Noreis?"

"She seems to be in good health. From what you have told me, it's a miracle she did not suffer any form of brain damage due to her length of unconsciousness, but then again she was responsive during her state when you would play music or read to her, so she had never fallen into a deep state of comatose. She will need several weeks to regain her strength and she is underweight. You will need to make sure she eats and gets a fair amount of exercise. You do not want her muscles to suffer from atrophy. Lengthen the time as she progresses, but for now, she should not overexert herself. She requires no medicines. Time will heal her ailment," Dr. Noreis diagnosed.

Erik smiled and shook the doctor's hand firmly. "I appreciate you making the trip doctor. I will see to it that my wife recovers fully."

"You have done a wonderful job, Monsieur Delacroix. I can see you are very dedicated and love her beyond comprehension. I shall come and check up on her in two weeks," Dr. Noreis said as he tipped his hat.

Erik asked Nicolas to walk the good doctor back to his carriage and to make sure the proper funds were given.

As he watched the two men disappear beyond the hill, he sat beside Christine again and brought her legs up to rest upon his lap. He rubbed her silky skin as he listened to her hum a tune he had taught her long ago as a child.

* * *

**Author's Note x2**  
Christine's awake! -cheers- 

**Disclaimer:**  
I do not own any rights nor am I affiliated to the following: Marivaux's "The Game of Love and Chance," Niccolo Paganini and his composition of "Caprice No. 20", The Swarovski Group, and Andrew Lloyd Webber and Charles Hart's "No One Would Listen" or Gerard Butler's performance of it. Thanks for the tune. You are the masters! I do love the original, but I have changed the lyrics to fit my story and no I am not making a profit from this or anything else.


	48. Chapter 48

**CHAPTER 48**

It was two months before the grand opening of the Opera Populaire and the managers were on their wits end trying to find the leads for their production of "The Game of Love and Chance." They had exhausted their efforts and all the great performers they had had in mind were otherwise contractually obligated.

Raoul stepped into the manager's office as the two men swam through a sea of papers desperately.

"We will be ruined, Andre! The biggest day of the year in France and we will look like fools!" Firmin exclaimed.

"Calm yourself! You are doing nothing for my nerves!" Andre barked at Firmin.

Raoul coughed making his presence known to the men, as he took a seat before them. "Messieurs, it's common knowledge that you both seem to be having trouble attaining two sufficient stars for the play. Might I make a suggestion?"

Both men looked at Raoul eagerly as they simultaneously said, "By all means, Monsieur Comte, tell us please!

Raoul placed his hands behind his head and crossed his legs. "I suggest Christine and her husband."

Both men looked at each other in confusion. They had no idea Christine had married or of her whereabouts for that matter.

Firmin scratched his head then asked, "I beg your pardon, Comte. We know of Christine's undeniable skill, but this husband of hers, is he a singer?"

"You both know him well. In fact, he has overseen most of the opera for many years as well as its reconstruction," Raoul said mysteriously.

The managers were at a loss trying to think who this man could be. The only conclusion they came up with was their reclusive benefactor Monsieur Delacroix, but they did not recall his services to the opera house prior to its destruction.

"Mademoiselle Daae has married Monsieur Delacroix? How is it that she made his acquaintance? We have not even had the pleasure to meet such an unparalleled genius!" Andre stated.

"Messieurs, should I secure these two as the stars of the play, there are a matter of conditions that must be met first," Raoul stated as he interlaced his fingers across his knee.

"Anything you ask, Comte!" Both men said in harmony.

Raoul smiled at the managers. He found it amusing that both men seemed to share a brain. "As you know, the gala theme for the Bastille is a masquerade. Naturally, I wish the entire production to be in masks to coincide with the ball."

"Fantastic idea, Comte!" Andre said immediately.

"Ingenious idea!" Firmin followed suit.

"Wonderful. I will see about making the necessary arrangements. I will have them meet with you both in a few days," Raoul said as he stood up and offered his hand to both men.

As Raoul turned on his heel and left the two managers, Firmin looked to Andre and said, "Why do I have this feeling we just made a deal with the devil?"

Andre looked at his partner and scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous, Richard."

* * *

Raoul stopped by the Giry's flat to visit with Meg and talk to her and Madame Giry about how to approach Erik and Christine with the offer he had made on their behalf. Meg was thrilled to hear of it. There was nothing she would love more than to share the acting stage with her best friend. Madame Giry was unsure about the whole idea. She knew Erik would not take kindly to something he had not been made privy to beforehand. 

"Perhaps you both can accompany me to their estate and help me argue my case. It is to benefit the opera house, something they hold so dearly and I cannot imagine anyone else more fitting for the roles of Silvia and Durante. There is no denying their chemistry during their performance of his Don Juan Triumphant. Now that I can see it from an objective point of view, I have to admit, those two on the stage would open the Opera Populaire in grand fashion," Raoul said honestly.

Meg agreed to accompany Raoul in hopes to help him with his business proposal. Her mother insisted on coming along to keep Erik from strangling the Comte.

* * *

Returning to his estate, Raoul made his way to the study and sat behind his desk. _"It's been a long day, but it proved to be most productive. Now to set my plans in motion," _he thought as he stretched his arms above him and yawned. He decided it would be best to inform the Delacroix's of his intended visit, so not to upset Erik any more than he expected him to be. He sealed the letter and had Francois delivery it personally.

* * *

_**Monsieur and Madame Delacroix,**_

_**I bid you both greetings and I am pleased to hear of your full recoveries. As you both know, the reopening of the Opera Populaire draws near and there is an important matter I wish to discuss with you both. My apologies for such short notice, but I fear this is a matter that needs to be addressed as soon as possible. The fate of the opening lies within your hands.**_

**_I am prepared to make the trip to your estate, should you consider holding court with me. Also, if it is of no inconvenience, I wish to bring Madame Giry and Meg along, so that they may visit with you both socially._**

_**I await your response.**_

**_Sincerely,  
Comte Raoul de Chagny _**

Erik finished reading the note aloud to his wife on the stone terrace, as they enjoyed their afternoon tea.

He rubbed his chin and thought about what was enclosed in the letter. "What do you think, mon ange?" Erik asked.

"I would love to see Madame Giry and Meg. It would also be nice to see Raoul, after all he has done," Christine said genuinely.

Erik nodded his head and placed the letter onto the table. "So be it. I will allow this visit," he said, intrigued in what the new Comte had to say regarding his precious opera house.

After they finished breakfast, Erik read Christine a collection of poetry by various authors. A Red, Red Rose was a particular favorite of his, by Robert Burns. He began to read with complete eloquence.

_O, my Luve's like a red, red rose,  
That's newly sprung in June.  
O, my Luve's like a melodie  
That's sweetly play'd in tune. _

_As fair as thou, my bonnie lass,  
So deep in luve am I;  
And I will love thee still, my dear,  
Till a' the seas gang dry. _

_Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,  
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:  
I will love thess till, my dear,  
While the sands o' life shall run:_

_And fare thee well, my only luve!  
And fare thee weel, a while!  
And I will come again, my luve,  
Tho' it ware ten thousand mile._

"What do you think, mon amour?" Erik asked as he looked down to his wife, resting upon his lap.

Christine had fallen asleep in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

Erik smiled, placing his book onto the small table next to him. He moved carefully from underneath her so he could get up. He placed a pillow under her head and kissed her, leaving her to rest.

He stepped into the estate from the stone terrace and retreated to his study.

Sitting behind his desk, he opened a small drawer and retrieved a piece of parchment, some ink, and a quill. He readied the items before him and proceeded to write his response to Raoul.

_**Comte de Chagny,**_

_**I have received your letter and I will allow your presence here at La Maison de Roses. The Opera Populaire is of great concern to me and I am interested in what you have to announce regarding the reopening. My wife and I will be expecting you, Madame Giry, and Meg, tomorrow at noon.**_

_**-Erik Delacroix**_

Erik placed the letter in an envelope and sealed it with his infamous skull seal. He took pleasure in mocking Raoul with his old habits. He smiled and then called for Nicolas, asking him to have Victor deliver it to Raoul's estate.

* * *

The following afternoon, Erik and Christine were singing in La Beauté de Musique salon when Raoul and the Giry women arrived. 

Before Nicolas opened the double doors to announce his master's guests, Raoul asked if they could listen a moment. Seeing no harm in it, Nicolas nodded.

They listened as Erik and Christine sang the raptures of their wedding night, a piece in act four, scene one of Gounod's "Romeo and Juliet." They were all mesmerized by the duos powerful vocal display. With every word they sang, they became the star-crossed lovers.

Nicolas opened the doors as the song came to a close and announced each of their guests. "Master, I present Comte Raoul de Chagny, Madame Annette Giry, and Mademoiselle Megan Giry."

Erik stood from his piano bench and welcomed them with a bow as Christine ran to Madame Giry and Meg.

"Come. The chef has prepared us a light lunch, which awaits us on the stone terrace," Erik said as he walked out of the salon.

* * *

They sat around the table enjoying tea, croissants, and a variety of cheeses and fresh fruit. As the ladies chattered amongst themselves, Erik and Raoul eyed each other as they ate. 

Raoul contemplated on how to bring up the subject of the production, when Erik spoke up.

"So, I believe you had something to tell us about the opera house, Monsieur Comte," Erik said as he wiped the side of his mouth with his napkin.

All eyes were on Raoul as he was about to speak. "It's about the production. The managers have been unable to fill two parts, two very _important_ parts."

"I know of the production. What parts are they not able to secure?" Erik inquired.

"Well, it's the parts of Silvia and Durante. We cannot possibly have a production without the main stars," Raoul said simply.

Erik took a breath and thought about the part of Silvia. He had hoped Christine would be interested in it. She had fully recovered from her weakened state and the weeks of singing with Erik in the music room had strengthened her voice. He believed it to be even better than it had been since the opera house.

"Leading roles in a production such as this would be sought after by many. I find it hard to believe those dunderheaded managers have not found two performers by now," Erik informed.

"The have tried, Monsieur, but there is simply no one available, especially since the Bastille draws near, but…" Raoul paused trying to phrase his words as delicate as possible.

"Somehow I knew there was something more to this, Comte. Get on with it," Erik snapped.

"I say this with the utmost respect, Monsieur, from a business point of view. I wonder if you and your wife would be interested in the parts?" Raoul asked as he steadied his nerves.

Christine had the look of surprise on her face.

Meg and Madame Giry braced themselves for an outburst.

"Your interest in my wife's talent I understand, but what you ask of me is impossible. Do you not remember my last appearance upon the stage?" Erik mocked.

"I do and that is why I sit before you today. Controversy aside, you and Christine performed incredibly that night. The powerful presence the two of you share upon the stage cannot be matched. I offer this, not because _I _am asking, but because the _opera_ needs you both," Raoul said genuinely.

Christine reached for Erik's hand and held it within hers. "I will do it, if you join me, mon amour," Christine decided.

Erik gazed into Christine's eyes and did not want to deny her, but it would be impossible for him to take the stage with her. It would be too risky. "It's not possible for me to perform beside you, mon ange. People will see my mask and…" Erik was interrupted as Raoul remembered the most important part to his proposal.

"I beg your pardon, but it _is_ absolutely possible for you to perform without fear of recognition," Raoul said positively.

"Care to enlighten me, Monsieur? Do you have a magic wand to remove _this _which sits upon my face?" Erik sneered as he pointed to his face.

"The gala which will follow the production is a masked ball. To follow with the theme I have asked the managers that the production be done in masks as well. They both agreed and found it quite fitting," Raoul answered.

All eyes were now on Erik. They all held their breaths as they waited for an answer.

Erik was impressed that Raoul had covered every aspect to insure his safety, again. _"If I did not despise this boy so much, I think I would actually like him,"_ Erik thought as he stood from his seat and made his way to the end of the table where Raoul sat.

As Erik brought his hand up, the three women rose from their chairs, ready to separate the two.

"I wish to shake your hand, Monsieur," Erik said evenly as he watched Raoul recoil slightly before he spoke.

Raoul took his hand and both men shook firmly.

All three women fell back into their chairs is disbelief.

Erik and Raoul looked at them and Erik said, "I shall _not_ kill le Comte this day, but I _will_ accept his offer to perform… on behalf of the Arts," Erik added the last bit of information quickly.

"There _is_ something I failed to mention," Raoul said timidly, as Erik's smile slowly disappeared from his face.

"What would _that_ be, Monsieur?" Erik asked suspiciously.

"The managers wish to see you both. They know you as Monsieur Delacroix and…" Raoul was silenced as Erik shot his hand around his neck firmly.

The women gasped at his sudden change in demeanor.

Erik brought his face close to Raoul's and whispered, "Tell me _why_ I should not snap your neck right now." Erik loosened his grip slightly to allow Raoul to speak.

"I had _no_ choice, but to mention who you were. I told them of Christine and that she had married. All the managers care about is the revenue. They know of the small fortune you donated to the opera as well as the free service you provided with your sketches," Raoul said in a gasped tone.

"What makes you so _certain_ that they will not disclose my identity to the authorities?" Erik declared strongly.

Raoul took a breath then answered, "They will _not_ jeopardize the opening of the opera. Not since the event has completely been sold out. They will not want to refund a full house. Once they hear you rehearse, they will not question either of you, but _most_ importantly, I will be _supporting_ you. They _know_ me to be your biggest enemy, Monsieur, and in this case it shall be to our advantage."

Erik pushed Raoul back into his seat and released him.

Meg came quickly to Raoul's side making sure he was alright, as did Madame Giry.

Erik retreated, making his way swiftly through the garden and down to the gazebo as Christine chased after him.

Arriving by the Seine, Christine slowly stepped up into the gazebo and stood behind Erik, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his back.

"Your childhood friend _unnerves_ me in a most _unsettling _way," Erik said as he watched the water ripple against the wind.

"He _means_ well, Erik. He's a _good_ man. I don't suppose you two will _ever_ become friends, but I know you are trying your best to coexist with him," Christine said intuitively.

Erik closed his eyes as Christine ran her hands across his chest to comfort him.

"I acted poorly today, in front of you, Annette, and Meg. Forgive me for my _offensive _behavior."

He turned around and looked into his Angel's eyes.

"I will _always _love you, Erik, with or without your faults," Christine said with devotion.

Erik kissed the top of her head and noticed Raoul making his way down toward them. Madame Giry and Meg followed closely behind.

Christine turned as she heard the footsteps upon the gazebo steps.

"Monsieur Delacroix, Christine, I wish to apologize…" Raoul paused as Erik abruptly cut in.

"_I _offer my apologies," Erik voiced, as everyone looked at him bewildered. "I have my _faults_, Monsieur, but _this_ should not surprise you. I wish to say that my wife and I will meet you and the managers tomorrow morning."

Raoul was not expecting this. Though, it was certainly fortunate for him. He had expected to be within the Phantom's grasp yet again.

Not wanting to press his luck, he thanked the Delacroix's for their time, bowed, and then turned on his heel. He extended his arm to Meg, who took to it, and then they made their way back up the hill.

Madame Giry stayed behind as she walked up to Erik. "Monsieur, I never thought in my lifetime I would ever bear witness to you offering an apology to your greatest enemy," she expressed.

"_Please_, Annette. You _know _how _hard_ this is for me already," Erik admitted.

"I am proud of you, mon ami. I always knew there was a decent man hidden behind all that anger," Madame Giry said as she placed a hand onto his shoulder and smiled.

Erik and Christine watched as Raoul and Meg disappeared over the hill.

"Annette? Meg and le Comte… What is their situation?" Erik asked curiously.

"They are courting publicly, Erik. Did you not know this?" Madame Giry asked surprised.

"Christine and I do not get much gossip out here. It is nothing like how the opera house was," Erik informed.

Christine smiled thinking about her two best friends together. She always knew how much Meg admired Raoul and she was happy that Raoul had finally found someone to share his love and have it returned equally.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Thanks to fanfiction for making my readers wait on my two updates! -smirks- I do hope that everyone was finally able to read it once the site came back up. This author's note is a friendly reminder to my loyal readers that there are exactly two more Chapters left. Yes, my first fan fic is coming to an end, but there will be a sequel, as you all will figure out in Chapter 50. I have no scheduled time frame for its release, but there will definitely be one. I plan on taking a few weeks for myself and due to the holidays approaching, my writing time will be limited. I am currently writing up Chapter 1 of the sequel though, so just know that our lovely characters that I have fleshed out in this fic will be making their return again soon! -hugs- Also, just to address a Swarovski issue (Thanks Jessica -hugs-) in the previous Chapter, Daniel Swarovski would have been 20 around the time frame of my fic. So the way I have set it to fit my story is that we are to assume that Erik knew of this man's talent before it became public knowledge and therefore had commissioned him personally for the chandelier. I know in the film, the elder Raoul spots a couple outside of a Swarovski jewelry store and then the scene cuts to the start of the Masquerade. I wanted to include it somehow in this fic, since the basis of my story is from the movie. 

**Disclaimer**  
I am not affiliated, nor do I own any of the following: Marivaux's "The Game of Love and Chance," Robert Burns and his Poem "A Red, Red Rose," and Gounod's "Romeo and Juliet."


	49. Chapter 49

**CHAPTER 49**

Victor drove Erik and Christine to the front of the Opera Populaire. He escorted Christine to Box 5, and then came back out to drive Erik to the Rue Scribe side. They had arrived early so that Erik could go through a few of his things in his former abode.

It had been several months since he'd seen his lair. Oddly enough he found himself a bit homesick for his old haunt.

Erik brushed away the cobwebs that had gathered along the passageway as he made his way back down to his lair. Upon arriving, he found everything as he had left it, except for the accumulation of dust. He went through several items, placing them aside to collect after his meeting with the managers.

Once he had finished rummaging through his things, he made his way through the passage that led to Box 5 to meet with Christine. He pushed the column and moved the curtain aside where he found Christine sitting and waiting patiently.

"What were you _doing_ down there, Angel?" Christine asked curiously.

"There were a few books I had forgotten and several scores of music. I will pick them up before we leave," Erik answered.

They sat in Box 5 watching the morning rehearsals take place. They were amazed at Meg's talent. She really took on the part of Lisette wonderfully. The stand-in for the part of Silvia was mediocre at best and her singing was excruciatingly familiar to that of Carlotta.

Erik squirmed in his seat as the woman sang. "Let us go, mon ange, or I will feel the need to make the Phantom's presence known once more."

Christine took to her husband's arm and they made their way toward the manager's office.

Reaching the manager's office, Erik knocked on the door and was greeted by Raoul. He welcomed them in and they took a seat before the desk.

"Messieurs Andre and Firmin will be with us shortly. They had to check on a few of the set designs," Raoul explained.

"Raoul, Madame Giry told me you are courting Meg. I am thrilled for you both," Christine said with a smile.

Erik lowered his fedora further down the right side of his face, stretching his long legs and crossing his arms over his chest. He listened as they talked. He was in no mood for pleasantries. The croaking voice of Silvia's stand-in kept replaying its torturous melody in his mind.

"Merci, Christine. Meg and I are quite happy. My parents have warmed to her and Madame Giry, much to my surprise. We have decided to keep our relationship at a steady pace for now," Raoul confirmed.

"Just remember to invite me to the wedding or I shall never forgive you!" Christine teased.

Erik snorted at Christine's response.

She slapped him on the arm and looked at Raoul. "Do not mind my husband. He is just a bit irritable after hearing Silvia's stand-in sing," Christine giggled.

"Oh, you must be speaking of Aurélie. She reminds me a lot of Carlotta," Raoul mentioned, shaking his head at the odds of someone else sharing the same vocal style.

Erik winced at the mention of Carlotta. He had had enough of small talk. "I do not tolerate tardiness. If those two fools do not arrive here soon…" Erik paused as the managers strolled in talking about the set designs.

"Ah, Comte, you are here!" Firmin smiled.

"Monsieur and Madame Delacroix are here also!" Andre cued in.

Both men kissed Christine's hand and as they offered their hands to Erik, who remained still.

Andre and Firmin looked at each other and shrugged, then seated themselves behind the desk.

Raoul took a seat beside Christine and prepared himself for the unknown.

The mysterious brooding man before the managers made them feel uneasy, so they decided to address Christine first. "Madame Delacroix, we are pleased to hear you and your husband wish to audition. We know of your amazing ability and le Comte tells us your husband is quite good," Andre mentioned.

Erik sighed and all eyes were on him. "I _assure_ you Messieurs, I am _more_ than 'quite good,'" Erik smirked.

Firmin saw his chance to address their reclusive benefactor and said, "I have been meaning to tell you, Monsieur Delacroix, your contributions to the opera house have been _most_ generous. Andre and I have wanted to thank you for some time now."

"I require no thanks, Messieurs. I was obligated to aid in the opera's reconstruction," Erik said simply.

The managers were more confused than ever. They didn't understand why some stranger would be "obligated" as he said.

Christine thought it best to speak up, sensing Erik's tension. "Do you wish to hear us perform?" Christine asked.

"Oui, that would splendid," Andre said as Firmin agreed.

They excited the office, making there way toward the stage. Once there, Raoul and the managers took their seats behind the orchestra pit as Monsieur Reyer asked for the stage to be cleared.

"And what do you wish to perform?" Monsieur Reyer called out to the stage.

Mozart's Don Giovanni, act one, scene nine: "Là ci darem la mano," Erik answered.

"Very well then," Monsieur Reyer replied. Tapping his baton, he readied the orchestra, and then he nodded his head, waving his baton as the music began to play.

The house lights dimmed and Erik dramatically made his way across the stage.

**Don Giovanni (Erik)**  
_Là ci darem la mano,  
Là mi dirai di sì.  
Vedi, non è lontano;  
Partiam, ben mio, da qui. _

Christine began to sing from beyond the curtain.

**Zerlina (Christine)**  
_(Vorrei e non vorrei,  
Mi trema un poco il cor.  
Felice, è ver, sarei,  
Ma può burlarmi ancor.)_

Erik reached out for Christine, beckoning her.

**Don Giovanni (Erik)**  
_Vieni, mio bel diletto! _

Christine continued to sing beyond the curtain, preparing to make her cued entrance.

**Zerlina (Christine)**  
_(Mi fa pietà Masetto.) _

Erik kept his right hand in position, calling for her in song.

**Don Giovanni (Erik)**  
_Io cangierò tua sorte. _

Christine appeared from beyond the stage and gracefully made her way toward Erik.

**Zerlina (Christine)**  
_Presto... non son più forte. _

Erik took her hand in his, pulling her close to him.

**Don Giovanni (Erik)**  
_Andiam! _

Christine held onto Erik as she let the music fill her soul.

**Zerlina (Christine)**  
_Andiam!_

Erik and Christine held each other tight as they became one with the music. Their voices soared throughout the opera house.

**A due (Both)**  
_Andiam, andiam, mio bene  
a ristorar le pene  
D'un innocente amor. _

As their final note rang out into the heavens, all eyes were upon them, completely mesmerized by their intensity. Raoul stood up and clapped as the managers became ecstatic. They had found their Silvia and Durante, though they couldn't help but find Delacroix's voice hauntingly familiar. They shrugged it off, finding it silly because they knew the Phantom of the Opera to be dead.

Erik and Christine made their way back to the manager's office and before they entered, he pulled her aside. "Mon ange, if we are to do this, I wish to reveal my identity to these men."

Christine looked at him with confusion. "But Angel, they do not need to know who you are. They have not recognized you."

Erik placed his hand against Christine's cheek and said genuinely, "That is not the point, Christine. If I am to do this as a _man_, for the opera house and more importantly for _you_, I wish not to live a lie. They will either accept me or not. I assure you, should they choose the latter, we will _still_ be safe, I promise. I only wish to free myself of this burden and perhaps redeem myself in the process."

Raoul waited alongside the managers, as Erik and Christine stepped in. Andre and Firmin clapped and Raoul smiled.

"Bravo! Brava! Bravissima!" The managers boasted.

Christine curtsied and smiled as Erik took a seat.

"Does this mean you still wish to have us perform?" Erik jested.

"You two _are_ Silvia and Durante. There is no one that could possibly do a better job. I have had the pleasure of witnessing this undeniable fact. I had no idea of your realm of talents, Monsieur Delacroix," Andre expressed.

"I agree! You simply _must_ perform for us on opening night," Firmin added.

"Are you two _absolutely_ sure you wish us to be a part of the production? No matter the _cost_?" Erik tested.

Sensing Erik's motives, Raoul stood ready, prepared to speak on Christine and Erik's behalf.

"But of course, Monsieur Delacroix! We would be ruined without you and Christine," Andre said honestly.

"Cost? Money is no object, mon ami. We will gladly pay you both handsomely," Firmin said, trying to secure them within the production.

"It is not a matter of _funds_, Messieurs. I speak of _this_…" Erik carefully removed his fedora and stood tall before the managers.

Both managers paled as they stood in realization of the man before them.

"This... this _cannot_... be!" Firmin said with a stuttered surprise.

Andre fell back into his chair, letting out a groan, as he sank his head between his hands, "Oh dear... 'a deal with the devil,' indeed!"

Christine sat nervously as Raoul stepped forward and spoke.

"He is _not_ the devil, _nor_ is he a ghost. He is merely a man. You know of his unsettling past, Messieurs, but I _assure _you both that today you have seen a _reformed_ man. This rebuilt opera house is _proof_ of the effort he has gone through to make things right. I was his _biggest_ enemy, but I stand here _supporting_ him now, for I have seen the changes in this man first hand."

Erik placed his fedora back upon his head and snorted. "If they do not wish for my wife and I to perform, then so be it! There is no need to _grovel_ before them, Comte," he said as he held out his hand to Christine.

She took his hand and stood up.

Before they made to exit, Erik warned, "I need not _remind_ you both to keep your mouths shut. As _easily_ as I can disappear, the same applies to my uncanny skill of making _others _do the same!"

As Erik and Christine made their way into the hall, Andre stood up and called to them to return to the office.

"What are you _doing_, Andre? Are you _mad_?" Firmin said confused.

"Shut up, Richard, unless you _wish_ to refund a full house _and _return to our scrap metal business?" Andre challenged.

Erik told Christine to stay in the hallway and then he turned to Raoul and asked him to keep his wife company while he spoke to the managers in private.

Hesitantly, Raoul agreed and watched Erik as he stepped into the manager's office.

Andre and Firmin steadied themselves, as they watched Erik come in alone. He closed the door behind him and then seated himself before the managers once more.

Andre cleared his throat and then addressed him cautiously. "Monsieur Delacroix, I admit this is _most_ unconventional, _but_ there is no denying that you and your wife have _exceptional_ talent. Perhaps if there were some way we could be sure that you will not revert back to your ways."

"_Impossible_! How are _we_ to know he is to be trusted, Andre?" Firmin asked.

Erik stood up and reached into his jacket.

Both men took in a breath thinking he was reaching for a weapon.

"Here," Erik announced, tossing an envelope onto the managers desk. "This is _all _I had ever received during the time you two fools took over the opera house from Monsieur Lefevre."

Firmin picked it up and opened it. Inside was the salary they had given the Opera Ghost over several months. He was at a loss for words as he handed the envelope to his partner. Andre took a look inside and nodded his head. "Monday then, Monsieur. We will block hours for you and your wife to rehearse uninterrupted. It has been a pleasure," Andre said as he held his hand out to Erik.

"And what about his salary for performing? We still have to _pay_ them both," Firmin questioned, feeling his pocketbook constrict. _"This is all just a way to swindle even more money from us,"_ he thought.

Erik shook Andre's hand firmly, and then addressed Firmin. "I _assure _you, Monsieur, my wife and I have no need for _your_ salary. I have many investments as well as other sources of income that is of _no_ concern to you both. We take pleasure in the Arts and we wish only that the Opera Populaire continues in providing entertainment for those who appreciate it as much as we do," Erik voiced as he tipped his fedora to the men, and then exited the office.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
There's one more Chapter after this folks, so brace yourselves for the finale! FFN is having problems still and I am not receiving my email to inform me of the reviews, so I'd like to take this moment to thank everyone for their continued support. I am happy to see a few new faces and I apologize for not sending out my usual response emails to each of you personally. I am glad everyone is enjoying the updates, happy that Christine has made a full recovery, and that people are enjoying Erik and Raoul's semi-coexistence with each other. As long as Raoul stays away from Christine, he should be fine, right? Well that and not piss off Erik... poor Raoul. -giggles- "Erik is one bad mutha... shut your mouth!" -hehe I love that Shaft song- 

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights, nor am I affiliated with Mozart's "Don Giovanni" and the song "Là ci darem la mano."


	50. Chapter 50

**Author's Note**  
I am placing this at the top, since we are on the final Chapter. Kelli, this Chapter I dedicate to you! -wonder twin hugs-

This Chapter starts off with Erik and Christine intimacy. Hopefully this is tasteful enough for the M Rating. I don't want to offend anyone, but believe me I edited as much as I could to still keep the action flowing. If you don't read the uncut version, you won't be missing any of the storyline, so don't worry. -hugs- As a reminder for those who are looking for a little more, you can read the uncut version over at the Adult Fan Fiction site (same pen name and story name over there). You have been warned!

Now, on with the fluff...

**CHAPTER 50**

Everything had fallen into place. The Phantom had finally come full circle and he was determined to be nothing more than Erik Delacroix. The grand opening of the Opera Populaire was a week away and Christine was excited. They had picked out their costumes for the Masquerade Ball. Erik chose to be Hades, since he refused to go to the ball as a fairy tale prince, so Christine decided on Persephone. The mask he designed was black and came down on both sides of his cheeks with flames around the eyes. He also created Christine's mask. It was silver with white feathers fanned out along the sides. As and personalized feature, Erik had two sets of wings custom made for their costumes, a pair of white wings for Christine and a pair of black wings for himself.

"Mon ange, you will look exquisite!" Erik said as Christine played with her mask. She placed it on her face and turned to him.

"Do you like it?" Christine asked carefully.

Erik had to wear a mask all his life, so she wasn't sure how he would feel about her wearing one now before him.

Erik walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I prefer your angelic face than to have it covered up by a mask, but perhaps we can have a bit of fun," Erik grinned.

"What are you suggesting, Erik?" Christine asked curiously.

Erik placed his finger to her mouth to silence her, and then slowly traced her lips.

Christine closed her eyes and soon his touch was replaced by a kiss.

He nibbled on her bottom lip and picked her up into his strong arms, bringing her by the fireplace, and placing her onto the crimson and gold fainting sofa.

Erik stood before her, the light from the fire silhouetting his frame. He gazed into her eyes as he slowly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. Placing his hands onto his trousers, Erik watched, as Christine's eyes grew hungry behind her mask. He slid his trousers down and stepped out of them. He placed himself on top of Christine carefully.

She brought her hand up to try and remove his mask, but he grabbed her wrist and said, "Tonight we shall _hide_ from the world, making love in _this_, our masquerade." He brought his mouth down to her neck passionately.

Christine gasped as he nuzzled at her neck.

He pulled her nightgown down from her right shoulder. He moved his mouth to it, pulling her gown further to reveal her supple breasts. He kneaded and stroked her silken peaks, adding more pressure as he licked her nipple and covered it with his mouth. She moaned in delight as he teased her breasts. He moved his right hand down between her legs and slowly traced along the inside of her thigh. He could feel her heated skin underneath his touch, as he got closer to his destination. As he held a steady hand against her moistened haven, he moved his mouth up against the underside of her chin and began to caress her slowly.

Her breathing became heavy as she quickly captured his lips with her own. Her tongue plunged into the warmth of his mouth as Erik massaged her swollen flesh. He slowed his movements purposely as he listened to her whimper. He brought his mouth to her ear and nibbled her lobe.

"Tell me how it _feels_, Christine," he said in a growl.

"Your touch… is like… _fire_… upon my skin…" Christine panted as Erik continued his slow movements between her legs. "I _cannot_… deny you, Erik… I _need_ you…"

"You are _mine_, Christine," Erik said as he quickened his rhythm. "I shall play upon your body until it _sings_ for me!" He commanded feverishly.

Christine gripped the sides of the sofa firmly as the pressure began to build against his touch. She bit down on her bottom lip as he stroked her with reckless abandon. She could no longer hold back the burning need for release. Ecstasy consumed her body, as beads of sweat glistened against her creamy skin.

The look behind her mask was filled with carnal desire as she grabbed onto Erik's shoulders and brought him to the floor. He let out a breath as they fell before the fireplace.

She ran her fingernails across his chest as he growled under her control. She leaned forward and bit his neck gently, then ran her tongue across his skin. She brought her mouth over his nipple, circling her tongue against it.

He reached underneath her nightgown and held her backside firmly.

"Since you wish to _play_ tonight, perhaps I should dance upon _your_ stage, maestro," Christine purred as she moved lower, placing tiny kisses upon his stomach.

Erik brushed at her curls as they rested across his chest.

Christine ran her hands against his sides and down across his legs, then ran her fingernails upward along the inside of his thighs.

"Christine? What are you…" he swallowed hard as she wrapped her hands around his manhood.

She placed a kiss to it then proceeded to pleasure him instinctively.

Erik's body tensed at the sensation she was giving him. He growled deeply in the back of his throat as she had her way with him. He held his hands at the back of her head, the warmth of her mouth around him maddening. His breath quickened as she increased her rhythm.

She looked up at him and the tension in his face was apparent. She quickly got on top of him and guided him within her.

Erik grabbed her breasts as she moved against him forcefully. He met her movements with equal fervor, as he brought himself up in a sitting position. He placed his arms around her back and held tight to her shoulders, pulling her down upon him. She threw her head back as Erik sucked her neck savagely.

His need was becoming undeniable and the pressure was building within her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, bracing herself for sweet release.

"Oh… Erik… my Angel…" Christine panted in delirium.

"Christine…I am yours…" Erik whispered seductively and then growled roughly, "And _you_… belong to _me_!"

Their breathing intensified as they brought each other to a climactic crescendo. He filled her completely with his essence then slowly collapsed against the floor, bringing her down with him.

Their bodies trembled against each other as they listened to the steady crackling of the fire. They held each other tenderly, falling asleep to recapture their masquerade in dreams.

* * *

The festivities for Bastille Day were in full swing across France. Fireworks could be seen all across town, as its Parisians walked the streets in colorful costumes. The Opera Populaire was about to open its doors for the first time since its destruction and crowds anxiously waited outside the magnificently rebuilt opera house. 

To avoid the onslaught of people, Victor drove the carriage around the back to allow the Delacroix's private access inside.

"Are you ready, my prima donna?" Erik asked as he held his hand out for his wife.

"Oui, mon amour," Christine said with a smile.

Victor followed behind the couple, carrying their costumes for the ball. They entered the building and made their way to Christine's dressing room.

* * *

Raoul arrived at the Girys flat to escort them to the opera house. Meg insisted that they keep their costumes for the ball a secret, so Raoul had his costume delivered to the opera house. 

Francois carried Meg's costume as Raoul helped Meg and Madame Giry into the carriage.

Madame Giry was already dressed in a gold and silver ball gown. Her gold mask was wing shaped with crystal beads hanging from both ends.

Arriving at the front of the opera house, Raoul and the Girys' swam through the crowd as they made their way to the foyer. Once inside, Raoul went backstage to meet with the managers and make sure everything was going as planned.

Meg went to her dressing room to change for the production and Madame Giry went to gather the ballet girls upstairs.

Moving between several backdrops, Raoul approached the managers. They seemed to be arguing with one another. Andre had his hands behind his back, pacing the area between him and his partner. Firmin was gesturing wildly with his hands like a madman.

"What _more_ can possibly happen this night?" Andre groaned.

"What will we _do_, Andre? It's much too late to find a replacement for the part of Harlequin!" Firmin panicked.

"What is the problem, Messieurs?" Raoul inquired.

"It's Perrin! He cannot perform. The fool was celebrating the Bastille earlier and he is quite inebriated!" Firmin said with disgust.

Raoul looked beyond the managers as he saw several of the stagehands trying to remove Perrin from backstage. The drunken ninny fell over several of the props before passing out.

"Is there no one that can take his place?" Raoul said with concern.

"None! We're ruined!" Firmin took his handkerchief from his pocket and began fanning himself.

"Then I will do it," Raoul said immediately.

"Comte? But, you do not know any of the lines," Andre said perplexed.

"I assure you, Messieurs, I know the production well and I have been going over the lines with Mademoiselle Giry," Raoul said confidently.

Both managers looked at one another then back at Raoul.

It was either him, which was a risk considering they did not know what his singing or acting abilities were, or refund everyone's money.

They each grabbed a firm hold on the Comte's arms and swiftly ushered him off the stage and to the dressing room to prepare him for the play.

* * *

Andre and Firmin sat in their private Box, bracing themselves for the start of the production. They nervously wondered if placing Raoul in as Harlequin was a good idea or not. They would find out soon enough. 

As the house lights dimmed and the curtain rose, they crossed themselves in hopes for a miraculous performance.

"I do hope the audience refrains from stringing us up above the rafters," Firmin said nervously.

"Oh do shut up, Richard!" Andre whispered firmly.

Christine and Meg appeared upon the stage and they played against each other wonderfully.

**Lisette (Meg):**  
"But surely, I cannot do this! Is it not wrong to deceive the man you are to be married to?"  
_(Lisette is holding up Silvia's elegant gown as her mistress motions to her to put it on.)_

**Silvia (Christine):**  
"The only deception, dear sweet Lisette, is that I know not of this Durante's intentions. What if he is some pompous boob?"  
_(Silvia places the backside of her hand to her forehead dramatically.)_

The audience laughed at the girls' performance as they spoke about trading places to fool Silvia's betrothed.

As Harlequin was cued in, Meg was surprised to hear Raoul's voice. She wondered what had happened to Perrin, but she was not complaining. It was wonderful to have Raoul with her on the stage.

**Harlequin-Durante (Raoul):**  
"My lady! I have arrived! Surely, you must have missed me. I believe a kiss is in order!"  
_(Harlequin, posing as his master Durante, tries to kiss her. She turns her head and he kisses her cheek instead.)_

**Lisette-Silvia(Meg): **  
"Do not misbehave. I am a lady. It is not proper for you to be so forward!"  
_(Lisette, posing as her mistress Silvia, smacks her fan upon Harlequin's head.)_

Christine smiled as Meg and Raoul ran through their lines. Raoul playfully capered across the stage, engrossed in the role of Harlequin as he sung to Meg.

**Harlequin-Durante(Raoul): **  
Come now, don't be shy  
You should not question why  
Because I love you  
And I know you love me too!_  
(Lisette gasps at Harlequin's bluntness.)_

Do not play this game  
I know you feel the same  
Because I love you  
And I know you love me too!  
_(Harlequin tries to kiss Lisette again as he sings foolishly, but she pushes him away, shaking her head.) _

The audience was in hysterics at Raoul and Meg's performance. They took on their respective roles mischievously. He sang through several lines and after his last note was sung, the curtain fell to change scenes.

The applause was deafening as Andre and Firmin grinned from ear to ear.

The curtain came up again and a single spotlight was focused upon the stage as Erik made his dramatic entrance.

**Durante-Harlequin(Erik):**  
This game of love is ending  
I cannot go on pretending  
For you and I can never be  
You do not know the real me  
_(Durante moves across the stage alone, until a second spotlight shines on Silvia.)_

The audience was mesmerized by his voice and as Christine graced the stage joining him, their heavenly song took flight.

**Silvia-Lisette(Christine):**  
This game of chance is a lie  
But these feelings I cannot deny  
Please guide my wayward heart  
For I do not wish us to part  
_(Silvia walks toward Durante, but as he's about to touch her face, she turns and takes a few steps away from him.) _

Erik and Christine continued several lines of their song of love and denial as they circled one another. Their portrayal of Durante and Silvia, posing as their servants, was spellbinding. The audience was captivated by their performance, holding their breaths as the two singers sang in unison.

**(Both)**  
Hold me like you've never held  
Touch me like you've never touched  
Kiss me like you've never kissed  
We will love each other now, in this stolen moment_  
(Durante and Silvia meet in the middle of the stage, holding each other's hands tightly. Their faces are mere inches away from one another, but they do not kiss.)_

The audience was in awe as their song came to a close. There was a few moments of silence and in one swift uproar, everyone rose to their feet and threw roses at the couple.

Erik and Christine smiled and turned to the audience, taking a bow.

The rest of the play was a huge success. The final curtain call was held as the cast came together upon the stage. They took several bows as the audience showed no desire to exit the auditorium.

* * *

The cast retreated, scrambling to the dressing area to change for the masquerade ball. 

Erik thought about the crowd ahead of time and brought Christine through a secret passage that led just a few feet away from her dressing room. They entered the room and Erik quickly closed the door behind them as several gentlemen started calling out for Madame Delacroix.

"It appears you have many _admirers_, mon ange," Erik said as he took in the sight around the room.

Dozens of flowers were scattered about in different colors.

Christine smiled as her cheeks flushed. It had been too long since she had performed on stage and the feeling was exhilarating.

"Shall I put my cape on and _scare_ them away?" Erik teased as several voices behind the door called for his wife.

"Don't worry, mon amour. There is but _one_ man that holds my affection," Christine said as she walked up to him and kissed him devotedly.

She began to remove her clothes during their kiss and Erik opened his left eye to view her.

"I did not know we had _time_ to make love, _but_ if you insist," Erik said as he began to strip his jacket from his body.

Christine giggled at her husband's playfulness.

"We must get dressed for the ball, Erik, but don't worry, there will be _plenty_ of time to make love when we return home," Christine winked.

Erik grabbed her close to him and began to kiss her neck. "And _plenty_ of time to make love the following morning," he moved to kiss her cheek, "and the _next_ day," he kissed her nose, "and the _next_!" he covered her mouth passionately.

* * *

Raoul changed into his costume for the ball. He wore a full suit of chain mail armor and a knightly surcoat over it, in the colors of the French flag. He tied back his hair and placed his coif onto his head. Under his coif, he wore a silver facemask. _"Meg will never recognize me with my entire face hidden,"_ Raoul thought as he inspected himself in the mirror. _"One last thing to get and the night shall be mine,"_ Raoul smiled under his mask. He placed his sword in its sheath and then turned on his heel out of the dressing room.

* * *

Madame Giry helped Meg into her mermaid costume. She pinned sections of her daughter's loose hair with tiny gold seashells. 

Meg began to have second thoughts about her costume choice. She was not sure how Raoul would act. _"Maybe Cinderella would have been a better choice," _Meg thought.

"Do you think he will like it, Maman?" Meg asked nervously.

"You look beautiful, chéri. That man is blind if he does not think so," Madame Giry said as she tied Meg's sea-green cape around her neck. It flowed behind her, ending in the shape of a tail.

Meg looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. The shimmering sea-green and gold designs on her dress sparkled in the light.

Madame Giry handed Meg her golden mask and brought her daughter out to the foyer where everyone was gathering.

The orchestra played various symphonies by Bach and Mozart, as Parisians gathered in the foyer. Once the crowd had settled, Monsieur Reyer proceeded with Mouret's "Fanfare" as the upper class of society made their way down the grand staircase, under announcement.

The corps de ballet entertained the guests with a routine Madame Giry had spent weeks rehearsing with the girls. They were dressed in market costumes, mimicking the personalities of Viennese women. They paraded around the grand staircase to Strauss's "Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka." The crowd laughed in delight at their humorous display and then cheered as their whimsical production came to an end.

Madame Giry clapped proudly for her girls. They did not miss a single step, to her amazement.

Erik and Christine walked down the grand hall as the orchestra began to play Tchaikovsky's "The Sleeping Beauty Suite: Waltz." He swept Christine into his arms and spun her into the middle of the foyer.

"They are playing our song, mon ange," Erik smiled as he took up her hand, wrapping his right arm around her waist.

The couple danced like they were upon a cloud. Their black and white wings were a vision to behold. They stared into each other's eyes as if no one else was around them.

"I love you, Christine," Erik said faithfully.

Christine beamed a precious smile at her husband. "I love you too, Erik. Always!"

* * *

Meg had looked everywhere for Raoul. Unbeknownst to her, he had been watching her since she had entered the foyer. She found it impossible to spot him through the mass of people. She stepped outside of the Opera Populaire to catch her breath. 

The night sky was a sea of colors as fireworks continued to celebrate the Bastille.

"I wonder if my lady would care to join me for a dance?" a muffled voice said from behind her.

Meg turned around and stood before a knight. His face was fully covered and she couldn't make out whom this man was. She continued to stare at him curiously.

"Oh, my apologies," the muffled voice said as he reached under his chin and freed his face from his mask.

"Raoul!" Meg said with excitement as she wrapped her arms around him fiercely.

"You look _amazing_, little Meg. This was a wonderful surprise, indeed," he smiled as he ran his hands along the sides of her hair. He brought them down her arms then took her hands within his. "Shall we dance, little Meg?" Raoul asked charmingly.

"I would love to, good sir knight," Meg curtsied.

Raoul and Meg entered the foyer as the music died down. Raoul looked to Monsieur Reyer and nodded. The orchestra began to play Handel's "Water Music: Suite No. 2" and Raoul danced her across the foyer through the crowd.

They circled the floor elegantly as his mother and father watched from the top of the grand staircase.

Meg became breathless as Raoul swept her off her feet, spinning her around as the song came to a close. He brought her down then slowly got down on one knee.

"Raoul, what are you doing? Get up!" Meg whispered in a confused panic.

Everyone around them was staring at the young couple.

Raoul cleared his voice then said aloud, "My apologies for the interruption, ladies and gentlemen, but there is something important I wish to ask this beautiful maiden of the sea."

He reached into a small leather pouch he had attached to his belt, which kept his surcoat in place. He pulled out a small velvet box and held it up to her with both hands. "Meg, you have graced me with tender moments that I have treasured since you came into my life. Your smile has warmed my heart. Your laugh has filled me with happiness. The comfort of your eyes and the warmth of your arms have lifted my soul. Your beauty is timeless, like a work of art and every time I close my eyes, your face is there on the canvas of my mind. I wish to spend every new moment by your side, if you will have me."

Meg's eyes began to swell with tears. As she blinked, they fell down her face like drops of rain.

Raoul opened the box before her and inside was an engagement ring, made of white gold. A mine cut sapphire was uplifted in the center, accented by thirty-two diamonds, four of the diamonds being set within a heart shaped design on the band, two hearts on each side of the center stone. The rest of the diamonds were set horizontally on the cut out band.

"Megan Alaine Giry, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Meg placed her hands around his and said in a shaky voice, "Yes, Raoul! Yes I will!"

The crowd of people applauded as Raoul took the ring from the box and placed it upon Meg's finger. He kissed her hand then got back up. They looked into each other's eyes and kissed each other lovingly.

Raoul's mother was in tears, as was Madame Giry.

The Marquis de Chagny stood tall watching over his only son. A small tear twinkled at the corner of his eye.

Anaïs looked to her husband and smiled as she wiped the tear away. The Marquis cleared his throat trying to compose himself.

"Oh, Jérôme…" Anaïs said with a small giggle.

Erik and Christine stood behind Madame Giry as she wiped at her face with a handkerchief.

Christine rubbed her back and smiled. A few tears escaped her eyes as she viewed her two dear friends.

"This has certainly been an _interesting_ year," Erik said as he watched the Comte and Meg embracing each other. "Maestro!" Erik called out to Monsieur Reyer.

Catching his attention, he continued, "This is a celebration, Monsieur. Would you be so kind as to play Handel's "La Rejoissance" for the young couple, s'il vous plaît?"

Monsieur Reyer nodded and tapped his baton on the music stand. The orchestra began to play as everyone danced joyously around the newly engaged couple.

* * *

From beyond the crowd, two men watched as everyone continued to celebrate. They were particularly interested in the young Comte. 

"So… is _he_ the one?" the burly man asked his partner.

"Oui," the thin man answered

"And all we do is keep an _eye_ on him?" the burly man scratched his bald head in confusion.

"For now… until we receive further instruction," the thin man grinned evilly.

* * *

It was just past midnight as everyone began to exit the opera house. The entire evening was amazing. The Bastille had come and gone and the Opera Populaire was in the Parisian spotlight once again. 

Erik and Christine thought about gracing the stage once again in the near future. Erik had several operas written that he would love to have performed on the stage someday.

As they arrived at The House of Roses, Nicolas was sitting outside awaiting his master.

"Monsieur, this came for you," Nicolas said as he handed a letter to Erik.

"Is it not a bit _late_ to be receiving a personal correspondence?" Erik questioned as he took the letter from his butler.

"Oui, I thought the same, Monsieur. I figured it must be of _great_ importance," Nicolas stated.

"Who is it from, Erik?" Christine asked curiously.

Erik looked at the front of the envelope and recognized the handwriting immediately. "It _appears_ to be from the Daroga. Go and get ready for bed and I shall be with you shortly, mon ange," Erik said as he placed a quick kiss to her lips.

Christine entered the house while Erik addressed Nicolas. "Be at my disposal, Nicolas. I sense this will require an immediate response."

"Very well, Monsieur," Nicolas said as he nodded in compliance.

* * *

Erik sat in his study and turned up the gas lamp upon his desk. He broke the seal on the envelope and unfolded the letter. He began to read, furrowing his brow curiously at its contents. 

_**Erik,**_

_**I hope this message finds you well. I have heard of Christine's recovery and I am overjoyed.** **Unfortunately, I have some information that requires your immediate attention. Yes, my old friend, you must come to Morocco as soon as possible. What I have to tell you must be told in person. I am not sure how you will take the news I possess, but you should find it most intriguing. **_

_**I await your response and I suggest you come alone. It may not be suitable for Christine and I am not quite sure of the situations we may encounter. **_

**_-Nadir_**

Erik placed the note on his desk and thought about what Nadir had written him. _"What exactly have you uncovered in Morocco, you Persian devil?" _Erik thought curiously.

He leaned against his leather chair and placed his long legs on top of his desk. _"What mischief are you getting me into this time, Daroga?"_ He sighed heavily.

_**XXXXXXXXXX-Fin-XXXXXXXXXX**_

_**

* * *

**_  
**Author's Note x2**  
Yes, there will be a sequel. Be sure to look for it in a few weeks, as I am taking a small break for myself. -smiles- The sequel will be titled: "Truth Be Told." To those who have stuck with the story since the beginning, I love you all for the support and the wonderful reviews you have given me. I never thought my first fan fiction would get this much interest. I am truly humbled. I am glad I was able to entertain you all with my imagination. Thanks for being so phantastic to me! -salute-

Regarding The Game of Love and Chance, for anyone that's actually seen the play, I've ad-libbed the production (dialogue/music) here to fit the story setting, so I hope that did not take away from the story at all.

Regarding my French, it's not something I am perfect at, though I wished to include it in the story to bring it to life. I am very open to editing any errors, so feel free to contact me via email or review and let me know what corrections need to be made. Thanks again in advance and my apologies again if anyone found this fic hard to read because of the language errors.

**Update Regarding Languages**  
I may decide on removing the French altogether, when I re-edit this story in the future. I'm still undecided and it's not a high priority at this time, but I'm playing with the idea. I just thought I'd let everyone know.

**Special Thanks**  
I wanna take this opportunity to thank my editor, Kelli, for putting up with all my typos, errors, and for giving me revision ideas. This is as much your story as it is mine. Without you, this wouldn't have been possible, so thank you from the bottom of my heart!

To Gerard Butler: You have been a great inspiration for me to finally get off my butt and write. You truly are amazing! I hope one day to cross paths with you, if only to be able to thank you in person. -super snogs-

Last, but certainly not least, to the wonderful Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Joel Schumacher for giving us "The Phantom of the Opera." All us POTO fan fiction writers would not be here today without these beautiful characters, your vision. -bows to the masters-

**Disclaimer**  
I do not own any rights, nor am I affiliated to the following: Mouret's _"Fanfare,"_ Strauss's _"Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka,"_ Tchaikovsky's _"The Sleeping Beauty Suite: Waltz,"_ and Handel's _"Water Music: Suite No. 2,"_ and _"La Rejoissance."_


End file.
